drag name
by victortor
Summary: After his ex-wife was killed in a villain attack, Jotaro picked up his daughter, wiped the tears off her face as best he could, and quietly moved back to Japan. Quirk AU. Slash.
1. A Series of Unfortunate Events

December of 1998 was a turning point.

Jolyne had become extremely exuberant in the weeks leading up to Christmas. With every song that played on the radio, the lights and holiday sales and pine trees that she saw, she'd tug on her father's coat and tell him exactly what she expected him to buy for her.

His father's only response was a vague hum and a pat on her head— "You don't believe in Santa anymore?" He would ask sometimes, as if he had forgotten it had been him who made her dispel that belief.

"You called Santa Claus 'a load of dog shit,'" Jolyne would remind him.

Her mother would often burst into laughter anytime Jolyne told her anything her dad said. "Did he really tell that to you?" She said. "Jojo, don't pay your father any mind. He's a grump; he didn't celebrate Christmas when he was your age, so he doesn't like it very much even now."

Jolyne made a face, and told her mom, "That's stupid. Christmas is the best holiday."

"Sure is," she said as she squeezed her cheeks. "But that's just how Japan works."

Jolyne didn't think she liked the idea of Japan very much. "Will daddy come over for Christmas still, though?"

"Of course he will."

Jolyne's father was very important. They always talked about him on the radio, and his hero name was almost always in the newspaper her mother subscribed to somewhere. It became a game— as soon as her mother was done flipping through her favorite sections, Jolyne would steal it from her and look for pictures of her father, count and see how many times they mentioned him. He was usually near the front, and sometimes in the Sunday comics section. There were drawings and little panels of him.

Jolyne's father was very important, so important that Jolyne didn't get to see him that much, only some weekends. She didn't understand a lot of the details the newspapers and radio always got into when they talked about him, but she knew that he saved people for a living. He was a pro hero.

"Is the reason why daddy doesn't live with us because he's a hero?" Jolyne asked her mother once.

"Not exactly," she said, looking up from the dishwasher.

"Then why doesn't he live here?"

"You don't remember this," he mother explained patiently, "But when you were around two or three, he did live here. After that he and I decided that we didn't like being married, so he moved out. You stayed here with me because he's incredibly busy, and he was worried that he wouldn't be able to take care of you. But he loves you very much, and when he doesn't have to go to work, he comes to see you."

Jolyne's mother was very good at explaining things. She had taught her how to read English, how to speak a bit of Italian, and Jolyne shouted, "Buon giorno!" Around the house for a day, even greeting her father like that and laughing at his nonplussed expression.

Her classmates at school talked about him too. At school it was always about him punching things and being cool and the strongest, "Star Platinum's the strongest hero in the world!" Jolyne's mother told her that her dad was a secret she couldn't tell anyone. So she bit her lip, closed her eyes, and tried not to say, My daddy's Star Platinum, and—

And everytime he would come by her mother's house to visit, he'd stoop down to her level, hug her, then nod and do whatever she wanted him to do. That was the person Jolyne knew as her father. Those were the things she couldn't say.

December of 1998 came with all the regular events: school ended, Jolyne tried to imagine what snow would feel like as the weather in Miami became more mild, and she and her mother decorated and decorated and decorated. The only person who became more busy was her dad, busy with all the hustle and bustle and security that came with every holiday season. "I'll come by for Christmas though," he said. It didn't really sound like a promise. Then again, maybe it hadn't meant to be one. Maybe he would just say it and do it.

December 19th marked the day Jolyne's grandparents were supposed to come to visit. Her mother greeted her own parents warmly, said, "Watch Jolyne while I'm gone, alright? I forgot to buy more pepper. Jojo, I'll be back before long, so don't cause any trouble for grandpa and grandma."

She never came back.

* * *

May, 1999: Morioh, Japan

"Didn't you hear?" Koichi's entire body was vibrating as he jogged. "Star Platinum's moving to Japan!"

"For real?" Josuke said through a mouthful of breakfast. "Since when?"

They both ran as they talked, uncomfortably aware that the bus would be coming any minute. It was a massive pain to miss it— another line also passed by Budogaoka High School, but it was scheduled in a way that made it almost impossible to arrive on time.

"He's already here actually, but it was only reported on the news this morning. Isn't that cool? Star Platinum's a Japanese hero now."

The bus stop quickly came into view. Okuyasu was already standing there, glancing at his battered wristwatch. He looked visibly relieved when Josuke and Koichi came into view. "I thought you weren't gonna make it!" He called out to them. "That was close."

Josuke punched him in the arm good-naturedly. "We're neighbors, Okuyasu," he complained. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Sorry man, I ended up leaving the house way early…"

Once they were safely on the bus, prior conversation quickly resumed, this time with the input from Okuyasu. "I mean, I don't really know much about foreign heroes," he said. "But even I know Star Platinum. Isn't he actually Japanese?"

Koichi lit up. "Yeah! His father is Japanese, his mom's American. He moved to the states after high school and debuted there, but he grew up in Japan. In some ways, he's the exact opposite of All Might, who's grew up in America but is a Japanese hero now."

It was sort of funny, seeing Koichi all excited like this. He had a great fondness for heroes, which wasn't uncommon, really— the same way one might be into manga and anime, there were also a whole lot of people crazy about heroes. It was just that Josuke had never really been one of them, though there was certainly a healthy amount of respect and admiration there. Judging by the befuddled look on Okuyasu's face, he wasn't either.

"Where do you think he's going to set up his hero agency?" Koichi muttered aloud. "It was in Miami before, and he's said in interviews that he likes living by the coast… Japan's an island though, there are plenty of cities by the ocean."

"You've read up on interviews about this guy?" Josuke grinned and adjusted his stance so he wouldn't fall over as the bus lurched. "Koichi, that's so passionate. I didn't realize you were so crazy about Star Platinum."

Koichi turned red. "There's a reason behind it," he began, scratching his head sheepishly. "I always wanted to be a hero when growing up. But you know, when I finally found out I was quirkless, I was in so much denial that I started looking up to see if there were any heroes in history that made it without a quirk."

Okuyasu blinked and said slowly, "I don't remember things too well, but I'm pretty sure Star Platinum has a quirk."

"He does, it's just that his didn't develop until he was seventeen! It was totally unprecedented. After that, I just thought he was so amazing and cool, I started researching him a lot…"

That was totally crazy. Josuke whistled out loud. "That does sound pretty badass." Seventeen? He must have only had his quirk for a little bit before the whole DIO thing. "It's pretty cool that he's moving to Japan, I guess."

They got off at their stop and, safe from tardiness, began to stroll down the sidewalk with time to spare. It was a nice morning already, with plenty of businessmen heading to work, students in school uniforms chatting as they walked— but nothing special.

Morioh was a pretty peaceful town when it wasn't tourist season, after all. Most days were like this.

"Alright, alright," Josuke said as they rounded the corner by St. Gentlemen's. It wasn't open yet, but the smell of fresh bread wafted through, making his mouth water a bit. "There's just one thing I don't get— Oh sorry, my bad!" He added quickly as he bumped into someone, dropping his school bag. "I wasn't looking where I was going. Anyway—"

Koichi suddenly grabbed his sleeve. "Josuke," he said.

"Just hear me out, ok?" Josuke said. "He sounds cool and all, but who chose the hero name 'Star Platinum?' It makes him sound like he's a drag queen."

"Josuke," Koichi said shrilly, a bit louder this time.

"What, it does!" He said, and picked up his school bag from the ground. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Koichi didn't answer, looking straight past Josuke in mortification, and then a moment of horrible premonition passed over him.

See, the morning had started off ordinarily enough. Sure, he'd overslept. His mom yelled at him when he stole her cream puff, but he'd buy her another one afterschool and she'd forgive him. Yeah, it was an odd coincidence that he'd seen Koichi since he had also been running late— but it was still not that surprising.

It, unfortunately, had not stayed that way.

"Are you Josuke Higashikata?"

The man he had just bumped into stared down at him. The rim of his cap sparkled gold, the bright accents on his white costume gleamed bright, and yet somehow the overwhelming, stifling gravitas around his massive frame didn't seem to fade. His eyes were bright blue under the brim of his cap, and his frown grew deeper the more Josuke gaped at him.

"Josuke Higashikata?" He repeated. His voice was deep, and he held out a picture of a youth who was obviously Josuke, pompadour and all. "Your mother's name is Tomoko, you're sixteen, born in 1983, and raised in Morioh all your life. First year at Budogaoka High. Is that you?"

"Yeah," Josuke said faintly. Behind him, Koichi made a vague choking noise. "Yeah, that's me." The sudden onslaught of information that the man had thrown on him made him ask in slight horror, "Am you here to arrest me?"

"No." The cool voice didn't really inspire much confidence. "But I was looking for you. I supposed you've saved me the trouble of heading to your house."

"My… my house?"

By now, a few people were beginning to look their way. He wasn't as well known as Japanese heroes, but his costume and appearance were still familiar enough to attract at least some attention.

"Are you free to come with me for a bit?"

"I've got school," Josuke said automatically, but the excuse was weak.

Yet somehow, he seemed to take it as an appropriate enough reason. "Then I'll drop by your house sometime this evening. Or if you're free before that, I'll be at the Morioh Grand Hotel, room 324. Give the front desk your name and they'll give you the keycard."

And with that, he gave one last nod to the three of them and strode off in the opposite direction.

As soon as he was out of sight, Koichi croaked out, "I think I just had a really vivid hallucination."

"Yeah," Josuke said breathlessly. "Man, there's gotta be something funky in the air today, Koichi."

Okuyasu, who had been standing a bit dumbly through the exchange, suddenly spoke in epiphany, " Wait, that was—"

* * *

For most of the school day Josuke was on autopilot— he took notes halfheartedly and his eyes moved along as the teacher read out of the textbook, but most of his energy was dedicated to trying figure out the exchange in the morning.

"Josuke," one of his classmates called out during lunch, giggling, "I heard you were talking to a cosplayer this morning?"

Cosplayer?! Josuke stuffed a bit of rice into his mouth before he also started giggling nervously, and Okuyasu looked as if he was about to die. "Something like that," he said weakly.

Koichi wasn't here— he and Yukako were eating together again, probably being all gross and domestic too. That was good. If he had to go through this conversation, he'd probably combust.

What did Star Platinum want with him? He hadn't even brought up Josuke's mom, either. It was himself that he seemed to be interested in. What would warrant a hero digging into his background?

The Higashikata family had a very local history, an old family in the town. His grandpa had been the head police chief when he was still alive, and a lot of shopkeepers knew Josuke by name— partly because of his grandpa, and partly because he kept mooning over brand clothes that he couldn't afford. There was really nothing that he could think of that would attract the attention of Star Platinum.

This was just great, he thought miserably. Anxiety gnawed at his insides.

Once school was over, Okuyasu and Koichi reluctantly walked home. "It wouldn't make sense for us to go with you, y'know," Okuyasu said, shrugging. "He only invited you, and it seems kind of rude to just go to his hotel like that."

"I'm sure it isn't anything bad," Koichi said. "And if you get the chance, please, get me an autograph."

Koichi was probably right. His track record of being correct about these sorts of things was far higher than Josuke's, at least, and for once it matched up with his own assessment. Nothing would happen, probably.

It was still weird, though. What would Star Platinum want with him?

Morioh Grand Hotel was the best, classiest place to crash in town. It was for rich tourists who came to Morioh to relax in the summer season. Josuke had only set foot in it once when he was twelve, in an attempt to use the bathroom in the lobby. And the bathroom had been nice— excessively opulent, decorated like someone was going to have to live in there or something. It had been weird, though in a good way.

Entering the establishment the second time, he saw a little girl sitting couch, her expression bored and mulish. When she saw him walk in, she looked up with curiosity.

Here was the thing— little girls were hardly unordinary, but what was odd about her was that while she had dark-colored hair and vaguely Japanese features, it also felt extremely western. Morioh sometimes had overseas tourists, but it was hardly the right season.

The girl brightened when they made eye contact, and she said in English, "Your hair's so cool!"

Well, foreigner it was.

Just a month ago, Josuke couldn't speak a lick of English. His grades in the subject were barely average, and stuttering out a hello would probably be the best he could do.

Instead of any of that though, a big smile crept up. Kids were always cute, and this one had fantastic taste in fashion. "Thanks," he said. "Ain't it the best?"

"How'd you make look so big?"

"A lot of hair gel," Josuke said. "Yours looks pretty cool, too." Apprehension that had flanked his entire mind slipped away for a bit as he took the chance to prolong the inevitable. It wouldn't hurt if he just humored the girl for a bit, right? "Did your parents do it for you?"

"My dad," she nodded, pleased with his compliment. "He tried to teach me how to braid yesterday, but I kept messing up. It's not fair! He's got such big fingers, even though he said small fingers are better." She held up her own hands. "Mine are a lot smaller."

Josuke laughed. "Well, I dunno how to braid things, either," he confessed, leaning down to whisper as if it were a big secret. "Maybe we're both normal, and your dad is just the weird one."

She giggled, then said, "Daddy's busy talking on the phone right now, so he said I could wander around the hotel if I wanted. But nothing's in English, and no one knows what I'm saying. Japan sucks."

Well, that explained why she had latched onto Josuke immediately. "You probably shouldn't go around talking to strangers like this," he said, scratching his head sheepishly. It was sort of on him, being so friendly with a random kid, but she looked bored out of her mind and seemed desperate for any sort of conversation. "Not all of are as cool as me, y'know."

"Daddy says if I meet a bad guy and I'm by myself, I should yell something cool and kick him in the nuts."

"... Sounds like pretty solid advice to me."

"I'm Jolyne Cujoh," she said, sticking her arm out for him to shake. She was obviously imitating a scene she had seen before, from the way she used her full name and her professional tone of voice. Maybe her dad was a businessman? "I'm six and three quarters."

"Josuke Higashikata," he replied, grabbing her tiny hand and shaking. "I'm sixteen."

"We're not strangers anymore, Josuke," she announced. "Bad guys don't have cool hair, anyway."

Jolyne, it seemed, was at the precocious age when children were articulate and outgoing, naive charm at its finest. She saw nothing strange at all with becoming friends with the first person that had walked in with good hair. At least she had good taste.

"D'you have time to hang?" Jolyne bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet. "I'm bored."

"Sorry, Jolyne," Josuke said apologetically. "I gotta meet someone, and after that I gotta go home help my mom with dinner."

"Oh." Her expression fell, more so than he expected. "Who're you meeting?"

The apprehension came flooding back. It seemed as if Star Platinum's stay here was kept on the down low, so Josuke scratched his head and said vaguely, "Just this guy."

The man at the front desk looked up when he approached awkwardly, his school uniform making it clear that he wasn't here for a room. "Er, I'm Josuke Higashikata," he said, pointing at himself awkwardly. "I was told that you could give me access to room 324?"

The key was handed to him without much fanfare, the clerk saying, "I've been told you should forgo knocking and just go in," and Josuke shifted uncomfortably in the ornate elevator. His own golden reflection stared back at him as the elevator dinged at the third floor.

The little light on the door flashed green as Josuke flashed the keycard in front of the sensor. He grabbed the handle, turned, and pushed the door open.

"Excuse me?" He called out into the space, "Er, it's Josuke, from this morning, Star—"

"Don't call me that."

The voice came floating from inside the room, and Josuke jumped. He was always got nervous at the idea of famous people, and walked in mechanically, took off his shoes next to a pair that were obviously the hero's, when Star Platinum said, "Come in."

The hotel room was obviously a suite, it seemed— another door seemed to lead into the bedroom. This room had a television, a couch, and a desk for office-work. There were massive windows on three sides of the room, overlooking the town and ocean.

Star Platinum was seated at a desk, the landline in his hand and a cup of tea in the other. Before Josuke could say anything he said, "This morning must have been confusing for you."

"Oh! Um, it was no problem, sir."

"Don't call me that," Star Platinum repeated, and it was impossible to tell if he was annoyed. "I'm in Morioh for hero business, but I'm contacting you for personal reasons. This morning I was working, so it was best to push back the matter."

"A personal reason?" Josuke asked hesitantly.

"I'm here on behalf of your father," Star Platinum said. "He passed away two days ago."

* * *

Joseph Joestar was another name that was almost everyone knew— mentioned in history textbooks in the fine print when discussing the developments of the past 50 years. He was a big name in real estate, and, slightly more notably, had put a lot of his wealth into funding the American hero industry. He had even been a pro hero for a bit, though he'd retired from old age before long.

Joseph Joestar had been married for over sixty years, had a daughter and grandson and great-granddaughter and a happy family— and apparently cheated on his wife with Higashikata Tomoko sixteen years ago. He remained blissfully unaware of his illegitimate son until April of 1999, about a month ago.

"You're mentioned in his will," Star Platinum said. "You and your mother are also invited to his funeral in New York in two days. The Joestar family would like to apologize for the delay in contacting the Higashikata's— it's been a rough few weeks."

"Oh no, it's fine," Josuke was quick to assure, still blinking a bit from the sudden info drop. "I— he's dead…?"

"Sudden heart failure," was the reply. "His health hadn't been so great recently."

Strangely enough, all Josuke could really think of was, my mom's gonna cry herself to sleep tonight. He shook his head weakly, said,"Sorry, you said this was personal affairs? Does that mean you and I are…?"

"Joseph Joestar is my grandfather," Star Platinum said. "You're my uncle."

Oh.

"Call me Jotaro," he said. "I wanted to speak to you first, since there's some legal semantics to sort out regarding the old man's will and what's been portioned off to you. But I'll still need to talk to your mother about—"

"It's ok," Josuke interrupted. "I'll tell her myself. If you came, she'd probably see the family resemblance immediately and start sobbing her eyes out before you can get a word edgewise. Come by tomorrow, I'm sure she'll want to go to the funeral."

The last word left a heavy taste on his tongue, and the conversation that was going to take place in the Higashikata household was already weighing on him. He could already imagine the look on his mom's face.

The darkening conversation was quickly cut short by the door opening once more, and a the familiar voice calling out, "Daddy, are you done with your phone calls yet?"

Jolyne let the door swing shut behind her, and her face lit up when she saw who her father was sitting with. "It's Josuke!"

Josuke jerked around. "Jolyne?!"

"You two have met," Jotaro commented. His eyes slid from the boy to his daughter speculatively.

"You've got a daughter?!" Josuke sputtered out.

Jotaro ignored his outburst entirely and said to the little girl, "Jolyne, this is your great uncle."

"Great-Uncle Josuke," She spoke skeptically, eyed him, and announced with the all-important voice only a child could have, "You're too cool to have such a long name. You're just Uncle Josuke now." She turned back to Jotaro. "Daddy, I'm hungry."

"I'll meet you tomorrow, then," Jotaro said, and that seemed to be as much of a dismissal as he would get.

* * *

The added benefit of having your best friend be your neighbor was that you could pop by his house anytime you wanted without much delay, and now was certainly a good time to take advantage of that.

"Okuyasu," Josuke called, pounding on the dilapidated door. "Oi, Okuyasu! Open up!"

After a moment, a mussed-looking Okuyasu pulled the front door open, brightening as he saw Josuke. "How'd it go?"

There was, unfortunately, nothing quite like America's number one superhero dropping by your itty bitty seaside hometown of Morioh to tell you that your father was dead and you were his estranged uncle, so Josuke had to cut to the chase and tell him exactly that.

"The funeral's the day after tomorrow, apparently," Josuke said, as they both sat on Okuyasu's porch steps. "I already know my mom's going to go, and she can't speak English and doesn't know anyone there— and she'll be a complete mess. There's no way I'm going to just let her go alone like that, so I guess I'll be going to New York soon."

"Man," Okuyasu spoke, "That's rough, bro. To finally know who your dad is, only to find out he's dead."

Josuke said, kicking a stray pebble with his shoe, "I was perfectly fine not knowing who my dad was, honestly."

Joseph Joestar, huh? It was hard to connect the name to the man his mom would cry about on nights she felt particularly lonely— back when his grandpa was still alive, spry enough to still insist on covering night shifts and she had tucked Josuke into bed, sometimes she'd take out the wine bottles in the pantry and cry. On rare occasions Josuke would catch her like this— as soon as she thought he was asleep, he'd crawl out out of his room and listen to her, discomfort prickling through his entire body.

She'd never abuse the alcohol. It was usually put back where it belonged by the time grandpa came home. But the loneliness was something that hadn't been faked. Tomoko wasn't the type of person to cry for no reason, and she was tougher than nails usually. It was unsettling and upsetting.

He didn't mourn for him, which made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Of course he felt something, because it was never good when people passed away. The Joestar family had probably been split apart by the revelation of Josuke before this, then following with Joseph Joestar's death, it had probably further fragmented the family. Of course he felt bad. He felt terrible about it.

But… he didn't love him, so he couldn't really mourn for the man beyond that.

He didn't hate his father. Tomoko didn't really talk about it, but she always spoke of Joseph Joestar with love, and he had always been vaguely aware that his dad didn't know about him. You couldn't hate someone for being there if they didn't know you existed. But still, there was a bit of ambivalence when it came to him— Josuke's life was fine as it was. His mom and him, living happily in Morioh: that was how it'd always been, so it'd be nice if it could stay that way.

Star Platinum— Jotaro had seemed pretty cool, once Josuke realized they were family. His daughter was cute, too. He didn't mind too much that he had reached out to find him, but some part of him hoped that whatever he was doing here, it would be quick and he would leave. He wasn't sure what his mother would do when she saw Jotaro tomorrow.

"A lot of people seem to be dying recently, huh," Okuyasu spoke candidly. If it had been anyone else, Josuke would have socked them in the face.

As it was, he replied, "You're right."

After all, his own grandfather's shrine was still a new addition to his house. Okuyasu still went to visit his brother's grave every day.

"Man," Josuke said, tipping his head up to look at the rosy, orange sky, "This really sucks."

* * *

I'm just very amused by the fact that if BNHA was set in present day, All Might and Jotaro would be approximately the same age. Also how Araki refers to Jotaro's character as "the hero" archetype, but i literally cannot imagine what a terror he would be as a government sanctioned pro hero, breaking every law as he sees fit.

this particular fic is set in "1999," 12 years before Deku attends U.A. Academy, aka BNHA theoretically takes place the same time as Stone Ocean.

this is on anon on ao3 but i honestly couldnt care less on this hellsite.


	2. Static Friction

Here was a fact: the hardest part of moving a still object was the initial push. It wasn't nearly as hard to keep an object in a state of motion. This was because the friction that kept an object in place pushed back in equal, opposite force to one's attempts until resistance was finally overcome.

The initial resistance, Jotaro knew, was something to be defeated. However, there was little to easily defeat in a situation as unfortunate as this one. It was January 3rd of the new year, 1999. He stood on the porch of his ex-wife's home while the rain poured, only adding to the dreariness of the mood.

Jolyne had been fussy today. It was understandable. There were things happening beyond her control, and in the end, both she and Jotaro hadn't gone to the funeral.

"I don't want to," she sobbed. "Don't want to, don't want to, I don't want to go, don't make me go I don't want to—"

There was no point in making her. She'd just cry over the proceedings, bawl into her father's coat until the snot was embedded into the fabric. No one would be happy with that. He couldn't, in good conscience, make Jolyne's grandparents look after her and miss their own daughter's funeral. So he had told them to go on ahead.

It was afternoon, past high noon. Was it almost over? Truth be told, he had little to no idea how long funerals lasted. He had never managed to make himself attend one. His colleagues, old comrades, old friends— he never went to any of their endings. He had never managed to muster the will. It just so happened that this time, an inconsolable Jolyne had managed to be the perfect excuse.

He had originally come to America for college, but when Joseph had brought up the restructured hero industry to him, he had stayed. That had been almost a decade ago, and now it finally seemed that his time here was coming to an end.

In the past nine years, he'd picked up some baggage. A daughter he hadn't expected, and a wife he didn't quite know how to talk to. But the two could take care of each other, he realized before long. Maybe some part of him just hadn't been cut out for something like that— he was never going to be a good husband. So he'd taken his leave before long. Besides, he was unwilling to push his own dangerous matters onto the safe, simple life Jolyne and her mother led.

It'd been a freak coincidence— a domestic terrorist attack out of nowhere, a man with a quirk that could deconstruct building structures. The entire shopping complex had collapsed. Practically no one who was inside survived. And as quick as that, she was dead.

Vague, forming thoughts of leaving Jolyne with her maternal grandparents to raise vanished into stardust after he left the scene, straight to his ex-wife's home. Jolyne had been inconsolable, filled to the brim with a distraught lack of understanding. The gap between expectations and reality, it seemed, had become very wide for her. Anyone would balk at leaving her to fend for herself after this.

After retirement, both of his ex-wife's parents had moved back to Italy, their mother country. Shoving Jolyne onto them was a unwanted task for both parties— they were old and, while willing, likely not the best choice for raising a child, and Jolyne could speak about five words of Italian, stuck with relatives she barely knew. She'd suffer before she recovered.

Jotaro, however, had no idea how to raise a child by himself. He'd left all the hard work for Jolyne's mother. His help meant giving her money, visiting on the few days he was free, but nothing else. Now that she was gone, there was nothing to do but face the next issue.

"Come back to Japan," his mother had offered on the phone just yesterday. "Come back to Musutafu, Jotaro. If you're worried about Jolyne, I wouldn't mind helping."

The rain wasn't particularly cold, the day wasn't particularly chilly. But the rain was wet and the air was humid, and it was miserable nonetheless. There was an old urge to put a cigarette in his fingers— a habit he had broken just last year.

Go back to Japan, huh.

His job couldn't be performed overseas, not when it depended on his physical presence in America. Staying in the hero business when moving was tricky— he still had dual citizenship in Japan and the US, so there was that. But his old agents couldn't come with him; he was very sure none of the folks at the office would be willing to move to Japan. On top of that, a pro hero, while not necessarily hired by the national government, certainly received pay from them. There'd be a lot of legal semantics to figure out when immigrating.

… Could he even move his hero office? Would he have to join a new one? The company he currently worked for, SPW Agency, had been created through the efforts of his grandfather and the Speedwagon Foundation. Unlike the actual international foundation, the agency was firmly rooted in America and had no branches elsewhere. He had no idea if his hero license would be valid in Japan. It'd be a massive pain, if he really went through with this.

The hardest part was always the first push. Jotaro knew that, which was why, in the oddest way, his quirk seemed so fitting. The first push was the hardest, and sometimes it became something that he couldn't bring himself to reach for. In an neverending attempt to delay the inevitable, you would stop the world in attempt to avoid your worries for the future— but it always came, sooner or later. But maybe if you stopped to stare at the rain, if you let books that have reached their end never close, it would simply never come at all.

There were things that he couldn't say. There was no one to listen to him, no one for him to confess, _I did wrong by her. Now that she's not here, I don't know what to do. _Would they be stuck in his throat forever? Perhaps they would until they dissolved in time, and he no longer felt the letters catch when he spoke.

It was a useless thought, for now was the time to make a decision. Just one more moment in the rain, then Jotaro would have to understand that the world would be moving on, and he couldn't afford to be left behind.

He exhaled. Old feelings quietly slithered away.

He turned back to the front door, let himself in. Jolyne was sitting on the couch, curled up and exhausted. She looked back up as he entered her field of vision, scampering to cling to him. She had been doing that a lot, more so than before.

"Jolyne," he said, setting her back on the couch and taking a seat beside her, "What do you think about Japan?"

* * *

May, 1999: Minato, Tokyo

The average height for humanity had shot up with the evolution of quirks. It was still relatively rare, however, to meet someone without a mutant-type quirk that towered over him. All Might and his sidekick, Sir Nighteye, fit the latter case: the former's head was a good 25 centimeters or so above Jotaro's, and even the latter was just noticeably taller, albeit thinner.

They shook hands agreeably enough, and All Might greeted him like they were old friends. They were, in a sense, though they had never been particularly close. Being the same generation and and going pro in the same country was the sole reason they interacted. Even when they both worked in the U.S., All Might was usually on the west coast while Jotaro stayed mostly on his turf in Florida.

"Star Platinum," he said warmly. "Last time I saw you it was at the U.N. conference, wasn't it?"

Jotaro nodded. "You look well."

"I am!"

They sat in All Might's office, a decently-sized room inside his hero agency in Roppongi. Outside the window Sir Nighteye seemed to be bustling about with this and that.

"It's been quite a surprise, having you suddenly move back," All Might said. "Not that anyone is complaining! It's quite an honor."

And a surprise it was. His abrupt exit from heroics after New Year's had not gone unnoticed, but no one suspected that he would be leaving America. Everything had been done in a rush— the quaint little house in the suburbs was boarded up and sold. His own apartment in downtown had been cleaned out and left spotless. Today would be the fifth week he'd been in Japan, trying to let Jolyne slowly acclimate to the large, sprawling Kujo residence in Musutafu. He'd been reluctant to move back in with his mother, but necessity pushed him into reacquainting himself with his childhood room, at least for the first few weeks.

All Might, thankfully, didn't push for details, and instead cut straight to the chase. "If I may ask, why would you want to join the All Might Hero Agency?"

Jotaro answered bluntly, "I figured I might as well ask."

He burst out in a mighty guffaw, as Jotaro had told an amazing joke. "I see, I see! I understand, the states are still operating with those massive hero companies, aren't they?"

"... Yeah."

"In Japan, things are a bit different," All Might explained helpfully. "Most pro heroes create their own agency, named after and owned by themselves. You only join another hero office if you want to be a sidekick, or you're interning. For example, the only other hero I have on staff here is Nighteye."

Well, that changed things.

In hindsight, he should have done a bit more research. Jotaro was a methodical sort of person; he did things with considerable thought, even if it didn't seem like it. This particular blunder, while not dangerous, was embarrassing. He really must be run ragged, if he hadn't even bothered to learn that before contacting All Might, of all people.

It couldn't be helped. He'd left the country as soon as he graduated, and before that the country hardly had the same hero system. Walking through Tokyo for the first time in years had made him realize how different it was. Everyone had said that the crime rate had only gone down since then— he swore he could feel a difference in the mood. Japan was a changed place after the rise of the Symbol of Peace.

The rest of the conversation did not last long. Even though the misunderstanding was cleared up, All Might seemed to insist on chatting a bit longer, but even that eventually led to him quietly stepping back into the hot Tokyo sun.

Jolyne and Holy were sitting in front of a nearby cafe, with the former carefully putting a bit of cake into her mouth. "It's fluffy," she was telling her grandmother as Jotaro approached.

They stood out like sore thumbs— even with her fluent Japanese, Holy's blond-white hair still stood out. They both had distinctly western features, and since their conversation was entirely in English they were definitely garnering some looks from passersby. They looked like tourists. Jolyne had insisted on following Jotaro around, as she had for the last few months, so they'd compromised on letting her watch as he entered the office.

He pulled out a chair and took a seat, reached out for Jolyne's plate, who quickly moved it away from him. "You can't have it," she informed him.

"Jotaro, go buy yourself something," Holy laughed. "You look a bit tired, dear."

"I'm fine."

"How did your meeting with All Might go?"

Jolyne asked absentmindedly, "Whozzat?"

"It was alright," he responded in Japanese. Jolyne threw a grumpy look at him, aware that he didn't want her listening in. Her Japanese was a work in progress. He made another move at her cake in distraction, and she quickly stuffed the rest of it in her mouth. "But I'll have to create my own hero agency, it seems."

"Really? That seems exciting!" Holy brightened. The laugh lines around her eyes deepened. Encroaching age had not curbed her enthusiasm at all. "Any way I can help, I'll do it! Also, I forgot to ask, but— did you get me an autograph?"

"I didn't, sorry." He should have guessed she would want one.

"It's alright, I forgot to ask. But All Might sure is something, isn't he?" She said. "Even Papa asks me about what he's up to all the time. It's too bad you won't get to work in the same company; he seems like such a outstanding young man."

"Who's All Might?" Jolyne repeated impatiently, bits of cake spitting out of her mouth as she talked.

Holy wiped the crumbs off the girl's face as Jotaro replied, "Japan's number one hero. We saw his figurines at the store yesterday."

She made a face. "You're gonna beat him, right?"

"It's not a competition," he said, the first of many times he would have to remind her.

"But you're better."

"Anyway, seeing as that finished earlier than either of us expected, should we go back to Musutafu and visit a few more apartments?" Holy asked. "Jolyne said she was up to it while you were gone."

"Mmhmm," the girl affirmed, licking the frosting off her spoon. "We can't have the last one."

The last apartment had been fine, in his opinion. But Jolyne had shook her head, staring suspiciously some of the bird feathers that adorned the artwork in the main bedroom. "I think it's haunted," she whispered. The way she stared at him, entirely serious with a large frown, had made him walk out of the apartment with her before long, still houseless.

… Letting Jolyne stay in the Kujo mansion forever was a very enticing option, in all honesty. Holy was excellent with Jolyne, she knew exactly what she was doing. There was always nagging urge to simply just… leave her there, while he rented out his own place. To let it "go back to the way it was before."

Every time the thought brushed his mind, his mother would look to him, and he'd look away.

"After we find an apartment, I'll be heading off to Morioh for a bit," he said abruptly, reverting back to Japanese.

Holy immediately straightened. "Are you going because of Papa's…?"

"Yeah." It certainly about time. Jotaro had forbid his grandfather from going to visit the Higashikata's himself. While it was all well and good that the old man wanted to take responsibility, the chances of him getting assaulted were high. If the kid was anything like his father or Jotaro, he would definitely want to get at least one punch in. However, everyone else had been run ragged in the past few weeks, trying to get Jotaro and Jolyne's living situation and legal documents in order, so the affair of Joseph's affair had been limited to tense conversations between husband and wife in New York, and no actual contact with the offspring in question.

"There's also some work there I'm interested in Morioh, so I'll be looking into it while I'm there."

"You can already do hero work even though you don't have an agency yet?" He shrugged. His license was already in order; it would probably be fine.

The word 'hero' in Japanese was similar enough sounding so that Jolyne caught it. "What hero?" She demanded.

"Nothing."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Holy sat for a moment. "I was going to ask to come with you," she confessed. "I'd like to meet my brother. But if you're also going on hero business, I'll suppose you'll ask me to stay here, right?"

She knew him too well. He nodded.

"That's fine," she smiled. "Just be sure to invite him and his mother over to Musutafu sometime, I'd love to get to know them!"

* * *

Nighteye poked his head in not long after Star Platinum left the offices.

"All Might," he began, a hint of disapproval in his voice, "You could have just called him. The misunderstanding was clear."

Toshinori scratched his head sheepishly. No longer in his muscle form, the costume fit a bit loosely on him. He turned to look at his sidekick, All Might's smile replaced with a more modest one. "I figured it'd been so long it wouldn't hurt to have a small chat and catch up," he said mildly. "But he really hasn't changed much, so I guess I shouldn't have bothered."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well," and how did one properly describe Star Platinum? He thought for a moment before honestly replying, "Back when we were both in America, every time there'd be a major issue, both of us would be called in. And it would always be the same: he'd show up, defeat the villain, and be off. He avoided the press like the plague, he worked well with other heroes but never made any friends— he was just very distant."

Truth be told, Toshinori was distant to his colleagues as well, albeit in a very different way. It was impossible to get close to other heroes when you couldn't even give them your real name. All Might was cheerful and outgoing and always asked after them. As a result, he had a lot of friends— but few close ones.

"You made it sound like you two were very close before he came, though," Nighteye said. "You seem to admire him a lot."

All Might and Star Platinum had met plenty of times, but their interactions had always been to the point and straight to business. Toshinori said thoughtfully, "Well, I definitely do like him. I don't know him very well, but it's what makes him popular— the cool, silent hero type, right? You can't help but want to get to know him a little better, even if nothing comes out of it."

Nighteye made a noncommittal noise. "So in terms of hero personalities, you're Superman and he's Batman," he muttered under his breath. The comparison was strangely apt, and it made Toshinori snort. "It seems the hero rankings are going to be shaken up a bit this year."

"It certainly will be."

Star Platinum sitting in his office had been an odd sight. He had come in civilian clothes, a plain, dark cap on his head. Even indoors, he didn't take it off. He had instinctively assumed that maybe he'd be more shy out of the costume, since he seemed remarkably adept at hiding his face with it. But that hadn't been the case at all— he'd met Toshinori's gaze evenly, as straightforward and brusque as he always had been. The whole noncommittal act hadn't been an act at all. There'd always been a larger than life presence around him, something a lot of heroes learned to have when they were on duty— but for Star Platinum, it was almost like he hadn't quite figured out how to turn it off.

"All Might." Nighteye's call made him start. "You already did morning patrol, so you've got a mandatory afternoon off. Come back in the evening."

Toshinori jerked around. "But—"

"You haven't taken a vacation since I started working for you," he raised a threatening finger towards his boss. "And I can't make you, so you'll just have to deal with me enforcing break days. Go relax for an afternoon. Tokyo won't collapse in a few hours without you, you know."

"You haven't taken a vacation either!"

With a bit more nagging, Nighteye had successfully managed to bully Toshinori into his civilian clothes— though the All Might costume was still underneath it— and before long he was taking the train back home, a bit flustered.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't realize that someone was tugging on his baggy cargo pants until a voice piped loudly up in English, "Mister, you've got bloodstains on your pants. Did you kill someone?"

People didn't normally talk much in trains, so it caught him slightly off guard. When he looked down, a little girl stared up at him— foreigner, huh.

"Jolyne!" A woman came to take her by the hand. "Speak more softly, alright dear?"

"He's got blood on his pants, Grandma," Jolyne said matter-a-factly. "Maybe he's a murderer."

Toshinori tried not to choke on his own spit. He looked down at his pants— there were some dull brown stains. Dirt, maybe. He hoped it wasn't blood; he honestly couldn't quite remember how they came to be but he definitely needed to do some laundry.

"Whether or not he's a murderer isn't any of our business," the woman said cheerfully, and turned to Toshinori. "Sorry for all the trouble, mister."

"Oh, it's fine," he was quick to assure. Jolyne stared at him suspiciously, and he waved back. She seemed like a bit of spitfire. "No trouble at all."

"Now let's get back to your father," the woman said, taking her granddaughter by the hand. "Goodness, did he really let you wander around in a train?"

"I told him I was gonna play detective," Jolyne replied, still too loudly.

* * *

A week after that, when the papers were signed and Jolyne had finally stopped tripping over the step right in front of the front door of their new apartment, Joseph's health took a downturn.

In the end, he didn't make it.

"I'm going to be gone for a bit," he told her. Josuke Higashikata and his mother had just become first priority. "Stay with Grandma Holy while I'm gone, alright?"

"No," she declared vehemently. "I'm coming! I'm coming with you!"

"You're not."

"I am!" His hands, which were holding hers carefully, stiffened a bit as tears unexpectedly began spill down her cheeks. "I gotta come with you! You can't leave me here, I hafta come!"

The sudden sobbing was so unexpected that Jotaro didn't quite know what to do. Jolyne wasn't much of crier, just like her father. The times she did were clear and understandable— she'd cried and cried when her mother died. She cried when she felt pain. This was not.

He hardly knew what to do when children were crying either, but with his mother's help he finally turned her shuddering sobs into little sniffles as she sat on her father's lap tearfully.

"Jotaro," Holy said. "I know you don't want her to come because you'll be working. But maybe you should just make an exception this one time. You're out there to meet family. I'm sure they'd be willing to look after Jolyne if things got dangerous."

"... Do you want to come too?"

She managed a weak smile. Her eyes were still red. "I think I might be staying in New York for a few weeks," she said. "Mama's absolutely disraught. She'll need me."

The rest... you know.

Josuke seemed like a good kid. Jolyne, who had a tendency to be suspicious of strangers, seemed to be fond of him already. When he and Jolyne knocked on the Higashikata residence the day after, it was Josuke who answered the door, his expression a bit subdued. "Hey."

Tomoko Higashikata looked exhausted, as if she hadn't slept a wink last night. She managed a weak smile at Jolyne, but took one look at Jotaro and burst into tears. Her son looked to her in resigned empathy.

"We'll pay for everything," Jotaro said. "The plane tickets, a place to stay while you're there— don't worry about it. My mother can speak Japanese, so she'll help you out."

Josuke looked to him sharply. "You're not coming?"

"I've got work." There were still a list of missing persons on his desk, collected into a brown folder and put underneath a book so Jolyne wouldn't see it.

After all, Jotaro didn't go to funerals.

* * *

Unironically, thanks for the support. Still don't know where this is going though

Now might be a great time to admit that I have finished neither JJBA nor BNHA so my knowledge in lore and stuff is all over the place. Nighteye? Don't know him. What the hell is a King Crimson.


	3. JoJo's Bizarre Vigilantism

Jotaro had taken Jolyne to the coastline too many times to count by the end of the first week. With no one to take care of her in Musutafu, he called the international school she'd been attending since they moved here to inform them she wouldn't be showing up. She was missing an awful lot of school, though. Maybe she ought to take a gap year? He'd figure something out.

Either way, it wasn't quite the correct season, but the weather was nice and every time they went out, her eyes would wander over to the tourist shops and postcards of a pretty ocean and beach. "Can we go?" She asked, tugging on his coat insistently.

Jotaro was particularly fond of beaches himself, and often found himself agreeing to her requests. While she amused herself with finding seashells and getting her feet wet, Jotaro would either lay down in vain attempt to relax, or he'd walk the coastline barefoot, looking at the barnacles that hugged the rocks.

These were moments in the evening— when he'd worked himself to the bone and Jolyne, stuck amusing herself all day, was dying to run about— when he'd push away all worries about the issue plaguing this town.

Morioh was small enough that there were no heroes patrolling the area regularly, but big enough that there really ought to be. The town was peaceful enough though so no one had thought about it, but when looking into his estranged uncle, Jotaro had found something a bit unsettling.

The last five months had seen 89 reports of missing persons in Morioh. It was so far removed the national average that he had doubled checked the records just to be sure. Looking into something like this had only been his tendency for thoroughness coming through; his eyes had glossed over the reports of escaped villain Anjuro "Angelo" Katagiri, still missing, and the recently deceased Ryohei Higashikata as well.

He hadn't been called in to do it. But this… was technically his job, and he had family here. It wouldn't hurt to look into it. It might be nothing at all.

Yet the more he looked into it, the more it didn't seem the case. Records upon of records of missing individuals went back fifteen years, predominantly women. It was all the same— there had no indication that they would run away, and no shift in their mood either. They had simply vanished, and their families never saw them again.

Josuke and Tomoko Higashikata returned from New York three days after they left. The latter was still wearing all black. His mother had told him the funeral went as well as could be expected— Grandma Suzi Q hadn't batted an eye at Tomoko, and merely sat by her in company. There was very little they had in common, separated by a cultural divide, language barrier, and two generations worth of time, but as two people who had loved the same man, there was a lot to cry together about.

Here was the thing: it was impossible to believe that Joseph Joestar had a small funeral. He was too well known, too connected, and altogether too famous to possibly just die and be mourned only by his family. There were plenty of heroes who had only managed to break through in the industry through the help of SPW Agency, or a few well-placed recommendations from the man himself. It was how Jotaro had managed to become a hero without even attending a hero academy. There was sure to be many of Jotaro's former colleagues that had shown up, his friends from high places, his old business partners and such.

"Mama says she wished you came, though," Holy said when he called, and her voice was carefully free of accusation. "But she understands."

Jolyne cocked her head when he set down the receiver a bit harder than he should've as soon as their conversation ended. "Was that Grandma?"

"Yeah," he answered. Jolyne only had a vague understanding that her great-grandfather had died. The idea of another dying relative was sure to upset her, so he hadn't told her much. She hadn't met Joseph since she turned three; it was doubtful she remembered him at all.

There was a mutual silence in their hotel room. Jolyne's head was lolling about lazily as she lay on the bed, and Jotaro feeling a similar sort of exhaustion as he shifted through a newspaper from April he'd taken from the local archives, until a story caught his eye.

There had been a robber arrested after attempting to shoplift at a convenience store, and had held a worker hostage at knifepoint upon arrival of the police. The article cited the standoff being broken via "sudden entrance of a high school student, who attacked the robber and successfully disarmed him." The robber was then taken to the hospital, then promptly arrested.

The high schooler's name was printed there, neatly— _Josuke Higashikata. _He checked the date again. It was a day before Ryohei Higashikata, former police chief of Morioh, suddenly passed away from a stroke.

There should have been nothing particularly noteworthy about this. There actually wasn't. A coincidence was a coincidence.

But it didn't hurt to ask.

* * *

Josuke's face was somewhere between guilty and horrified as they walked to school. "Okuyasu," he moaned, "I'm ruined. What do I do? I don't want to get arrested, my mom's gonna kill me!"

"He ain't gonna _arrest _you," Okuyasu countered, then weakly corrected himself when Josuke gave him a disbelieving look. "Alright, I dunno. But you can't just lie to him. He's your nephew! You didn't do anything bad, maybe he'll feel bad for you."

He groaned in return. "I don't even know how he found out. It was a whole month ago, I completely forgot about it… to be honest, I sorta forgot a lot of things we've been doing are illegal."

Somehow, the events of the last month hadn't even been on the list of things worth mentioning when he was still trying to figure out why Star Platinum was trying to contact him.

Okuyasu blinked owlishly. "What?"

"Well, you know," Josuke waved his hand around meaninglessly. "Trattoria Trussardi? The asshole Rohan with his stupid manga? Yukako? Technically they'd all be in big trouble if I spilled the beans."

"I don't remember any of them killing anyone," Okuyasu said, and added in stunning observation, "I think that's only you."

"I'm not talking about _that, _" Josuke yelped. "And he's not dead! Using quirks in public for reasons other than self-defense is illegal, remember? Yukako set her classmate's head on fire at school, not to mention all the stuff she did to traumatize Koichi. Tonio's a great guy and his food is amazing, but if anyone finds out he's been using his quirk in his restaurant's dishes, that's still a lawsuit waiting to happen. And Rohan might've been in his house when he did it, but he still tried to make you kill yourself with a lighter! That's _definitely _illegal."

Josuke knew the law. His grandpa had been a police officer, of course he did. But he'd grown up in a small town where everyone knew him, and they were all… willing to bend the rules a bit, especially for a quirk as useful as his. If there was someone walking down the street with a broken arm, or maybe someone had broken a possession in front of him, chances were he'd stop them, patch it up right then and there, and wave them goodbye with the unspoken promise that they wouldn't tell. As a result, maybe he'd… broken that particular law more than he should've. And he'd definitely used his quirk to beat people up before.

Since the escape of Angelo, things had been a bit hectic in this town. Okuyasu's brother, Keicho, who had been responsible for more missing persons than both Okuyasu or Josuke knew, Akira Otoishi, the fucking shitbag with his annoying electricity quirk, and all the people in between… Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi had managed to track him down after repeated failed attempts, and after beating him up and healing him a few times, everyone had felt manageably less upset at him— especially Okuyasu. He was, however, still alive. He had given up immediately as soon as he was defeated. There was no point in attacking someone to the point of death when they actively trying to kill you. He had confessed to the murder of Keicho to the police, and he was now safely behind bars.

"Anyway, I didn't kill Angelo," Josuke hissed. "He's just permanently incapacitated, is all. What was I supposed to do, let him attack that little girl?"

Either way, the problem still remained— Jotaro had called him to ask about the robbery case and his grandpa, and he was supposed to talk to him afterschool It would be easy enough to lie, if not for the fact that Josuke really didn't want to. His poker face wasn't that great, at lying about something like this to a pro hero… man, that was scary.

The truth meant the whole truth, and that was a lot of things. It wasn't just his livelihood on the line— would Okuyasu be in trouble for aiding Keicho? Would Rohan be arrested? Just because he was an asshole didn't mean he deserved something like that. There was also Hazamada and Kobayashi to think about.

Josuke and Okuyasu looked at each other, and mutually agreed: obviously, they needed a third opinion.

…

"Oh no," Koichi groaned during lunch, "That's horrible."

_"Koichi," _Josuke wailed, "You were supposed to have a solution."

"Well, how am I supposed to know?" Was the longsuffering complaint. "He's your nephew, you should know him best. Do you think he'll let us off if you tell him about Angelo?"

Probably not. The few times he'd met with Jotaro since they met had been pretty to-the-point, and all he'd really gotten was that he was a very professional guy, with a cool personality in every sense of the word. His very profession dictated that he'd be a stickler for the law, though…

"I don't want to lie to a _hero," _he exclaimed. "If I do that, then I'm no better than a villain obstructing justice."

They sat in commiserating silence, and Josuke poked at his empty bento miserably. "Alright, how about this. I'm not gonna mention anyone but me. I'll just talk about the Anjuro Rock."

"I thought—"

"Well yeah, I don't really want to get in trouble, but I can still reverse Angelo, so at least I won't be charged for manslaughter or something," Josuke said. It probably wouldn't come to that, seeing as Angelo _had _been trying to kill him… but the court would probably see the existence of the Angelo Stone as something way too overboard and cruel. "I just… really don't want to have to lie a lot about this one."

Okuyasu frowned. "I think you should tell him about Keicho and me, too," he said contemplatively.

"... You sure?"

"I helped him do a lot of bad things," was Okuyasu's response. "Don't think it's right to not let someone like Star Platinum know."

"Could you not mention Yukako?" Koichi asked guiltily. "I know she's done some things, but she really has turned a new leaf. I don't want her to get in trouble."

"Of course." Josuke hadn't really had anything to do with her, anyway.

With the matter settled for the moment, the discussion flipped through other topics— Josuke talked a bit about the funeral. "It sucked," he said plainly, because all funerals sucked. "But, uh, the Joestar family was nice. My… sister…? Was really nice."

Okuyasu talked a bit about his dad. "I took him to Tonio's, cause I thought maybe it'd help out. But he just looked a bit shinier at the end. He liked it, though. I think we'll go again soon."

"It's too bad Josuke's quirk can't help with your dad," Koichi said sympathetically.

"I don't even know why it doesn't, either," Josuke muttered. His quirk couldn't heal illnesses for some reason. Okuyasu's dad's condition wasn't necessarily a normal virus or bacteria-induced sickness, but apparently a quirk-induced one was essentially the same.

Koichi said, "I don't know how to bring this up, but there's… something weird going on at my house."

Both Josuke and Okuyasu straightened. "Need any help?"

"Oh, it's not like that." He scratched his cheek. "I'm not sure how to say it… but it's been really… loud recently."

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday the landline wouldn't stop ringing for ten minutes," Koichi said. "But everytime someone would go and pick the receiver up, there was no one on the other line. It was like the phone was just ringing, even though no one was calling. I kept hearing birdsong in the middle of the night, but all the birds should be sleeping. During dinner, you can always hear multiple cats meowing outside, even though there's no cats outside… it's crazy."

"That does sound weird," Josuke said. "D'you think it's someone messing with your family, or…?"

"What kind of person has the time to sit by my house and make weird noises all night?" Koichi made a face imagining it. "I don't even know if it's a quirk. Maybe the phone's broken, and the animals outside are reacting to something."

Either way, it was amazingly puzzling. They all considered the situation for the rest of their break, finally ending with Okuyasu shrugging. "It just sounds sorta annoying. Hope it all works out."

* * *

"So," Josuke began, "I don't really know how to put this."

Jotaro looked to him. The teen was sitting awkwardly across from him at the table, a bit of sweat lining his brow. "The robbery," he prompted.

"Yeah, uh… do you know what my quirk is?" When he answered in the negative, Josuke scratched his neck. "It's got two parts, really— I've got some superhuman strength and speed, and I can also take something and restore it to a previous state. It's pretty handy; I can fix injuries and broken appliances really fast."

Handy was an understatement. From the way Josuke was describing it, Jotaro wouldn't be surprised if he'd ever lost a fight.

Right on cue, he continued, "Morioh doesn't really have any heroes, and the police don't use their quirks, so… the whole robbery thing, turns out the robber was being controlled. There was this villain on death row who escaped recently— uh, Anjuro Ka—"

"Katagiri," Jotaro finished. "Villain name, Aqua Necklace. He can manipulate liquids, and any fluids controlled by him that enter a living being control that person as well. So you're telling me that the robber was being controlled by him."

"Yeah," Josuke said dumbly, taken aback by how well-informed he was. "Right. So he got mad that I interfered, and, well… long story short, he killed my grandpa, so I sorta… used my quirk on him. Uh. He's outta commission."

And from that, the pieces began to fit together. Josuke, understandably enraged after the death of Ryohei Higashikata, had confronted the serial killer and managed to subdue him— all of which was very illegal, considering his civilian status. The fact that he was here, confessing to all of it without even a bit of pressing from Jotaro was rather surprising. The kid had a heart of gold, it seemed.

"Relax," he said. "You're not in trouble."

"Yeah, I— wait."

"You're not in trouble," he repeated, since Josuke looked as if he hadn't quite understand. "Just tell me where Angelo is."

"Uh, I broke a rock and reformed it around him," Josuke said dumbly. "He's sort of stuck like that forever, unless I fix him. The Angelo Stone is what we call it— it's down the street from my house. But wait, you're really not gonna report me?"

That was fortunate. If Josuke had managed to mold him together with a rock, it solved a lot of problems. In the ideal world, he'd be sent back to the death row, but seeing as he'd managed to escape last time and increase his kill count while he was out… maybe it was better if he stayed as a rock.

"I'm not," he said. "Why would I?"

"You're a hero, aren't you? What kind of hero doesn't enforce these sorts of things?"

A bad one, he didn't say. Jotaro was well aware of the type of person he was. He'd never been a stickler for the rules, even when he understood why they were put in place. "You didn't do anything wrong," he said, "So I don't see why I should."

Josuke openly gaped at him, then snapped his mouth shut. "Ok. Alright. Cool. A gift horse and all that, I guess. Was Angelo the reason why you came to Morioh?"

Jotaro considered him. He hadn't originally intended for Josuke to get involved with this. With the current situation though, there was nothing but dead ends. If he wanted more information, Josuke, who seemed to be involved in more Morioh's big incidents than he realized, was his best bet. He also seemed to have a good handle on his quirk, and was able to defend himself. It wouldn't hurt to tell him.

"It wasn't. Angelo never bothered to hide his victim's bodies. I'm looking into all the missing person reports for Morioh."

"... Missing people." Josuke swallowed. "Ok, I might know something about that too. I got a friend, he said he wanted me to tell you about it— Okuyasu Nijimura, he was with me when we first met."

"I remember him. Go on."

"So, he has a dad who's been fu— uh, messed up from some sort of quirk backlash. It's turned him into a mindless goo monster, but he's practically immortal.

"Okuyasu's brother, Keicho, started trying to find a way to off him. He got so desperate that he'd find people on the streets with the most dangerous looking quirk, force them into trying to… well, kill his dad. The forcing part usually involved a lot of violence. Still, they all failed, and Keicho would kill them when they did. Then he'd make Okuyasu vanish the bodies with his quirk. That's… probably the cause of a lot of those missing people."

"Where is Keicho now?"

"Dead," Josuke said succinctly. "One of the guys, Akira Otoishi, managed to get away, then came back later and killed him. After that he started threatening everyone, really, and caused a whole mess. It's fine, though— he got detained by the police two weeks ago with a little, uh, persuasion."

One less thing to worry about, then. Keicho… Nijimura. "Do you know when he started hunting for quirk users?"

Josuke shrugged. "Can't have been more than a few years."

"You said your friend was working with his brother. Has he had a change of heart since then?"

"Okuyasu's always been a great guy," was the immediate answer. "He just really trusted his brother, so he let him call all the shots. He never killed anyone, either— it was all Keicho."

"I'll take your word for it." Okuyasu Nijimura was not a threat, it seemed. He was thankful for that.

It was unclear as to whether Keicho was really the reason behind the abnormal amount of disappearances in Morioh, but Josuke certainly seemed to think so. This was a finicky situation, seeing as the problem seemed to have been dealt with what was essentially a teenage vigilante… but still.

"I don't see an issue with you dealing with this," he said bluntly. "It's your town. You seem capable enough, there's no reason why you shouldn't be allowed to defend your home. If you're sure the incident is taken care of with no loose ends, then I'll accept it."

"Just… just like that?"

"If something dire happens, call me. Other than that, yes."

It took Josuke a few more moments to take his words at face value, and he finally nodded. "Geez, that's… really cool of you."

"There's nothing cool about it," he replied. "There's no heroes in this town, so unless that changes you've got no one better than yourself to take care of things. I trust you know how to be discreet."

Hearing that, Josuke seemed to pale a bit. "You trust me? That's a lot of pressure… I'm glad you're gonna be ok with this, but I'm just a normal high school student. I'm not even attending a hero course. You sure you're ok with letting me do whatever? Isn't that sort of…"

Irresponsible?

He'd trailed off, flushing a bit, but Jotaro knew what he meant to say. It was most definitely irresponsible of him.

There were words he wanted to say. You're a Joestar, he wanted to tell him. You're family. There's always going to be something about you, where you'll never let something you love go. You'll never waver. Even if I tried to stop you, you'd likely never listen. Do what you think is right.

But Josuke didn't know anything about being a Joestar. He had never even met his father, and all he had was his mom and his small seaside town to live in, content with just that. He was so far removed from everything Jotaro knew from that side of the family. The words would likely mean nothing to him, or he'd find the assessment inaccurate.

Turns out, however, that he did not need to say anything. Josuke, flustered with his indirect accusation, quickly changed the subject.

"Uh, anyway, I was also wondering about Jolyne. She's gonna live in Japan with you, right?"

"Yeah."

"I noticed she can't speak the language," Josuke said. "I know a guy who can teach her real fast, if you're up to it."

The insinuation did not go past unnoticed. He raised a brow and clarified, "With a quirk?"

"Yeah. I hate the guy and it's not hard for him to abuse his quirk, but, well, he still owes me. I promise he won't do anything to her, if you're worried. Rohan's an asshole, but he's got _some _standards."

* * *

It was two days later, late evening, when Josuke was in the middle of brushing his teeth that the call came. He had fumbled with the tube of toothpaste and had just stuck the toothbrush in his mouth when his mom yelled from downstairs, "Josuke! Your friend Koichi is on the phone! He said it's important!"

"Horld orn a shec," he yelled back, bits of saliva splattering on the mirror. After hurriedly wiping it off, he jumped down the stairs. "Koichi? Wassup?"

The voice that greeted him was beyond ecstatic. "Josuke," Koichi yelled, "Oh my god, Josuke! Those sounds in my house! They _were _a quirk!"

"What? Who was causing it, then?!"

"Me!" Koichi screeched, and Josuke's heart jumped. "It was _my _quirk! I have a quirk, Josuke!"

* * *

.

Who let Jotaro "we're going to ignore the law" Kujo become a hero. Who put him in this position of power, who enabled him. Someone revoke his license.


	4. Wednesday, June 9th, 1999

All Might had gone pro in America mid-winter of 1989, on a pleasant, sunny day in Los Angeles, California. Jotaro, working through his second year of college in Washington state at the time, had been particularly flummoxed when the papers the next morning were plastered with the image of a picturesque, muscle-bound superhero, spandex and all.

He had taken a swig of coffee— he never touched the stuff again as soon as he dropped out— and put the newspaper away, thoughts already drifting to the paper due tomorrow.

Star Platinum had debuted in late March of 1990, a month after the creation of SPW Agency and four months after All Might.

Unlike All Might however, there was already a reputation behind Star Platinum. He was the man who defeated DIO— the mysterious villain who had suddenly surfaced in 1983, leaving masses of dead bodies discovered in the morning wherever he went. He had been an international terror, and any hero who had gone after him met an untimely death.

In early January, 1988, DIO's death had made worldwide news. Images of his decapitated, half-evaporated form were provided courtesy of the Speedwagon Foundation. The hero responsible was not named. In 1990, when Star Platinum claimed the kill, the media went wild.

Was this a coverup? The man beneath the costume, "Jotaro Cujoh," was looked into. His grandfather, Joseph Joestar, was an affluent man, and had also funded the hero agency Star Platinum worked under. Perhaps this was all a massive scheme to promote his grandson.

One more picture provided by the Speedwagon Foundation was released, intended to function as evidence of truth— a severe looking young man, unmistakably Star Platinum's features, in a foreign school uniform, sitting in an ambulance. There was blood on his clothes and face. DIO's defeated body lay beside him, half-covered in a white sheet.

Beyond this claim to fame, it was impossible to deny Star Platinum was good at what he did. Both he and All Might quickly rose in rank. By 1992, All Might was fifth in hero rankings. Star Platinum was sixth. This was also the year the former returned to Japan, leaving the latter to climb to the top, blasting through his competition.

Yet despite his high profile identity, Star Platinum remained taciturn and close-lipped, refusing any and all interviews, press conferences, and invitations to talk shows. His agency refused to give out any information on his identity beyond his name. Questions about his quirk were brushed aside with a "No comment."

The number of interviews he had in his career could be counted with two fingers. One had been in 1991, a quick Q&A with Star Platinum, All Might, and a few other rising stars. The questions had been inane, quirky— more about learning about the heroes' personality than anything else.

"What's your favorite thing about where you live?" The interviewer asked.

All Might had answered on California, "The sun! It's almost always sunny in LA, and it gets me in a cheerful mood for work."

Star Platinum had answered on Florida, "The pier. You can watch boats dock and undock, and light bounces off the water at dawn."

The second interview had been a televised, half-hour segment in response to an information leak in 1994. Someone had dug deep, and found an outdated record of Star Platinum's quirk info from Musutafu, Japan— Star Platinum's hometown.

Until he'd become a pro hero, Jotaro Cujoh's quirk had been listed as _N/A (Quirkless). _

So the SPW Agency had sat their poster hero in front of a camera and a reporter, who had asked question after question. Anything he chose not to answer would be edited out, was the promise.

Still, he'd admitted to a lot— he'd grown up in Japan. His mother was American, his father was Japanese. He dropped out of college to become a hero. He was currently 23. He did, however, refuse to comment on his marital status.

"My quirk manifested when I was seventeen," said Star Platinum. "It was sudden and unexpected, but not impossible, scientifically speaking."

"Seventeen, you say?" The reporter repeated. "That's 1987, right?"

"Yeah. November of 1987."

"DIO was defeated in early 1988," and there was a glint in his eye now, searching for scoop. "You're saying you only had your quirk for two months before you killed a villain that dozens of heroes before you had failed to?"

He was expecting a break in composure, but all he received was the weighty gaze of Star Platinum, who seemed more annoyed than anything. "Yeah," he repeated. "You fucking deaf, or something?"

(They'd censored that, of course, when editing.)

The reporter quickly changed tracks. "Why were you the one that was chosen to defeat DIO?"

Star Platinum was silent on that one, and when it was beginning to seem as if he was never going to answer it, he finally said bluntly, "No one else was going to do it."

(The interview ended with Star Platinum standing up in the middle of a question, saying, "Give me a fucking break, we've been at this for way too fucking long—" and walking out. Naturally, this made the final cut, and became somewhat of a catchphrase; though that is a story for another time.)

It was interesting to note that there was something about Star Platinum— the way his stare bored into a person, or his natural charisma, that made people implicitly understand: he wasn't someone to be trifled with. He was a hero, and he was someone who truly had the ability to defeat monsters like DIO.

No one else was going to do it. That was what he said, and just like that, the reporter let the question go, as if that had been enough of an explanation. He did not press on the much more interesting query: Jotaro Cujoh had been only seventeen years old at the time. What had convinced him that he was the world's best bet in defeating a psychopath?

* * *

"We're going back?"

The first Thursday of June had brought Jolyne good news. She'd been bored to death in Morioh. Jotaro would've let her run around as she pleased— there were plenty of children her age out and about by themselves— but out of worry of her unfamiliarity with the language, he'd chosen not to.

That was no longer a problem: one visit to Josuke's friend and she'd walked out speaking in rapid-fire Japanese, as if it were her first language.

Still, "We're going back," he confirmed. "Besides, it's your birthday next Wednesday. We should celebrate with Grandma Holy."

Nijimura Keicho had been identified the cause for most of the recent disappearances in Morioh. It didn't quite explain the string of vanishings before that, but there was little more he could do for this town with his limited info. He'd told Josuke to call him if anything happened, for there was no point in dawdling around if he couldn't do anything.

"Yeah!" Jolyne jumped up and down. "It's my birthday! I want a cake! I want Mr. Rohan's Dark Pink Boy and Uncle Josuke's hairdo!"

"I don't know how to style a pompadour," he lied, because he sure as hell wasn't going to let her walk around like that. "But sure, for the other thing."

She raised a brow at him— or, attempted to, and ended up raising both her eyebrows and looking extremely surprised. "You're not supposed to _tell _me what you're gonna get," she explained patiently. "It's supposed to be a secret."

Nevertheless, she looked extremely pleased with his acquiescence to her demands, which made him wonder why people even bothered hiding these things from their kids.

There were a few other things to take care of before Jolyne's birthday. Upon the realization that he would have to create his own agency, he'd called in the Speedwagon Foundation to do the paperwork for him— he honestly couldn't be bothered, and there was enough trust between him and the organization that he knew they weren't about to screw him over.

His office wasn't too far from his apartment, though it was on the other side of the city. It was remarkably bare at the moment, both in furnishing and people. The Speedwagon Foundation promised they'd get proper agents for him by the end of the week— they had a lot of capable people on hand, and the one thing that Star Platinum needed most was a good PR team. Jotaro never worked with sidekicks, so he was set on that.

Some of the new hires had called yesterday— the Tokyo police had tried to contact him while he was in Morioh. There was something big going down in about a week, and with the recent news that he'd moved to Japan, it seemed they'd decided to ask for his help.

"Tell them I'll be there," he'd said immediately, to which he'd received instructions to head to the police department in South Musutafu for a proper debrief, tomorrow at noon.

But that was for tomorrow, and for the remainder of today, Jolyne insisted on a meal at home, after two weeks of takeout and restaurant dining. They arrived at their apartment around six, having taken the time to buy groceries at the store by the train station.

"I want pasta for dinner," Jolyne had said once they reached Daiei, and had grabbed a box of dried penne.

"It won't taste as good as Tonio's," he warned, and she'd made a face, put it back where she found it.

"Then I want…" She trailed off, trying to think of something interesting. "Sushi."

"You won't like it." Although alright with some seafood (shellfish was still beyond her), Jolyne would probably balk at the idea of sashimi.

"The thing Grandma Holy did with the big pot and all the stuff inside, then," Jolyne demanded. "Sukiyaki."

"Alright," he said slowly, though the weather had been a bit hot for… well, hot pot. "We can do that, but we'll have to buy the pot, too."

As soon as they'd both gotten their shoes off and put their luggage in their respective bedrooms, Jolyne was immediately trying to get his attention— "You said I could help," she said. "Come on, let's make it right now! Hurry up, Daddy!"

Sukiyaki was a dish Jotaro remembered from cold winter nights in middle school when his father was gone on tour, and his mother would call him into the kitchen. He'd help her chop up the vegetables and make the sauce, and he'd watch as they all simmered slowly in the cast-iron pot.

Then they'd eat at the kotatsu, Jotaro blowing at the steaming food. It was so cold that even a bite of rice would be like a burning rock falling down his throat. Holy would eat as well, asking about his school day. He'd tell her carefully, picking and choosing his words, as he avoided the shiitake mushrooms.

The memory was dim, but when they had first moved to Japan, Holy had made it again, and once again Jotaro had helped her in the same manner. They had all gathered around the same kotatsu, Jolyne's eyes wide at the foreign-looking meal.

History repeated itself, he supposed.

He didn't quite trust a six-year-old with a knife, no matter how much she argued. "I'm almost seven," wasn't terribly convincing, so he had her working the rice cooker and measuring out the ingredients for the sauce as he cut the vegetables into sizeable chunks. The meat came precut. As part of his quirk, Jotaro had unusually steady hands and uncanny hand-eye coordination— in other words, the process went much quicker than it normally would.

"You gotta do the pattern on the mushrooms," Jolyne said, expectant. Surprisingly enough, she loved them. "The star pattern."

Once everything was sliced, he helped her pour the soy sauce in, and handed her chopsticks to mix in the sugar as the mixture boiled. "Don't burn yourself," he warned.

"Uh huh."

He had Jolyne stand away as he poured the oil and fat into the pot. It tended to splash when green onions were added, and even though it didn't hurt too much, who knew how good the girl's pain tolerance was.

"Jolyne," he said, when it was time to pour the broth in, "Do you think you could get two bowls when the rice cooker's done and put rice in them?"

"Yeah!"

He put the ingredients in gradually, and before long they were all cooked to a satisfactory level.

The pot was lifted from the stove and placed in the middle of their table— Jolyne, still not used to eating on the ground, found every meal at home extremely entertaining as a result. When Jotaro lifted the lid, all the steam billowed out and she giggled. "What do you want?" He asked her, intending to put it in her bowl for.

She pointed suspiciously at the daikon, something that he had added this time. "Whassat?"

"Radish."

"Ewww!" She giggled some more, then listed out, "I want the beef, the tofu, all the mushrooms…"

Once he'd poured the broth and given her a bit of what she'd asked, he did the same for himself. Jolyne squawked in horror as he cracked a raw egg and mixed it into his rice— "You're gonna die!" She shrieked as he took a bite. "The samella's gonna get you!"

"Salmonella," he corrected.

"Spit it out!" He did not.

By the end of their meal, only half of the pot was empty and Jolyne was laying on the ground, sweating. "Daddy," she said. "It's too hot for sukiyaki."

"Yeah."

"But It tastes good. I helped a lot, huh?"

"You did."

* * *

The debrief the day after was… something.

He'd gotten there a bit early, with fifteen minutes left to spare. They'd directed him to a conference room to wait in, but when he walked, he was met with a familiar blue cape.

"Star Platinum!" All Might raised a hand in greeting. "Hello again! I see they called you in, too!"

Having expecting to be the only one here, Jotaro had been a bit taken aback. If they'd asked for more than one hero… was it a raid of some sorts? The room was empty besides him. Was it just the two of them, or had the other heroes not arrived yet?

He wordlessly nodded, took a seat across from All Might as he continued, "How are you settling into things so far? I heard you've set up your agency, that was fast!"

"It's been alright," Jotaro replied, unsure of what else to say. Small talk had always seemed a bit useless to him.

All Might's massive frame seemed to shrink a bit as he heard Jotaro's lukewarm response. "I see. That's good, then."

The thing about awkward silences was that Jotaro didn't particularly care if they existed or not. It was only awkward if you thought they were awkward, he reasoned, and in order for that to happen you'd have to feel the need to engage in conversation in the first place. He had no such qualms, and was therefore perfectly fine with sitting in silence.

This was not the case for All Might, who had conventional sensibilities and was not, as Jolyne would like put it, "a weirdo." As the expression on his face grew more and more uncomfortable, Jotaro finally took pity on him and asked, "... These past few years in Japan, how have they been?"

He instantly brightened. "Quite wonderful, really. It's a wonderful place to live. Even when I was in the US for a while, I was always planning on coming back. The heroes here are also amazing! I'm constantly astounded by how talented everyone I meet is."

Hearing that, Jotaro cocked his head. "I'm not too well-versed in modern Japanese heroics," he said. "Give me a rundown of the notable heroes here."

"Ah, well, let's see." All Might scratched his head and began to list out some heroes. "There's Endeavor of course— I'm sure you've heard of him already— who's ranked second for his third year now. His quirk is fire-based, and he's incredibly skilled! There's no one challenging his spot right now. His public persona is a bit like yours; maybe you two would get along?

"Then there's Crimson Riot, whose quirk lets him harden his skin. He's a very honorable sort, very courageous and easy to work with.

"Ectoplasm, who can make copies of himself. Though I heard he's thinking about going into teaching soon, instead of doing heroics full time.

"Power Loader, with a burrowing quirk! He also makes hero uniforms as a side gig, so I'd recommend him if you ever feel like you need an upgrade."

"Yoroi Musha, a seasoned veteran! You'll see him a lot around Tokyo if you choose to set up your office there."

Jotaro committed the names to heart, and when All Might finally seemed to run out of names he could think of off the top of his head, he said, "And of course, the Symbol of Peace himself."

"Well, it seems sort of arrogant to include yourself in your own list," he scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Besides, you already know me. Hero rankings aren't everything, you know— there are plenty of talented heroes that aren't near the top simply due to the way the system judges them."

"Then give me your honest opinion," Jotaro said, and at this point it was more out of genuine curiosity on what All Might thought of him than anything. "Where do you think I would place on the current Hero Billboard?"

"That's a bit hard to say. If I recall correctly, America's way of determining rankings was based purely on your heroic accomplishments," All Might replied. "So the number of villains you took down, the severity of each situation, and how well you handled it— casualties and environment damage, so on."

"Yeah."

"In Japan it's a bit different. Things like popularity are taken into account, as well as societal and cultural impact. Approval ratings for each hero aren't just for show— it's taken into account when determining your rank!" All Might continued after taking a quick breath, "I think not considering popularity, you could easily make the top 10 in a year. Public approval is a bit more tricky because it's so variable. But assuming you're just as popular here as you are in the U.S., then it should be no problem at all."

What a pain. Approval ratings? The annoyance must have been clear on his face, because All Might laughed. "Your frankness is as refreshing as ever!"

The implication that he had been fond of Jotaro's attitude before this did not go unnoticed. All Might had always been a kind person, so it was difficult to say that he was especially so towards Jotaro. However, it was pretty strange that he would always be so friendly towards a coworker that had never been very open to him. Maybe that was also just in his nature?

As if on cue, All Might said, "You and I didn't really talk much before, but now that we're both in same country again, it's important to build a strong rapport with your colleagues!"

Jotaro opened his mouth to respond, but the door opened again before he could. They both turned curiously, ready to greet whoever it was, but the hero that walked in beat them both to it.

"All Might. And… you're Star Platinum," he said, his voice abrasive.

"Endeavor," Jotaro said, because it had to be, what with the flames surrounding him and rather impressive glare.

"Endeavor, they called you as well? Something really big must be happening," All Might commented. "I don't recall anything being reported in the news…"

Endeavor, however, took two seconds to look at the both of them, then turned right around, ready to walk out.

"Endeavor…?"

"Give me a fucking break," Endeavor snarled, and the phrase had Jotaro blinking. "They didn't tell me _you _would be here."

… Maybe All Might had a point; their personalities _were _a bit similar. Though it seemed as if he and Endeavor had a bad relationship, which the former hadn't implied at all.

There was a sheepish little laugh from All Might, and before things got too tense a few officers finally walked in— ending the little spat, for now.

The debrief itself was straightforward enough. Ob-La-Di, OLD for short, was a powerful villain gang with British roots. After numerous altercations and close saves with European heroes in the past, they had crossed the Eurasian continent to take refuge in the island of Japan in the earlier half of the decade.

A higher up in the gang, Tom Moore, villain name Postman, had been successfully detained by heroes just a week ago. On Monday of this week, OLD sent a threat to the Police Headquarters— Tokyo Tower would be bombed on June 9th, three in the afternoon unless Moore was released.

"OLD's been nothing but troublesome since they settled in Japan, and now they're getting cocky," the Chief of Police, Kenji Tsuragamae said. "Postman spilled the location of their main headquarters this morning. It's as good of a time as any to nip the group in the bud, to put it figuratively. Since we know at least some of their forces will be at Tokyo Tower next Wednesday, it'd be a good time to storm their base."

"That sounds good to me," All Might said. "OLD's certainly been a rising threat."

And it was all well and good, but Jotaro was suddenly thinking about the date, even as he nodded in agreement. June 9th was Jolyne's birthday… Well, it'd probably be fine.

* * *

Here was a correction in hindsight: Wednesday, June 9th, 1999 was a shitty day.

It was marked worse by the fact that he'd been expecting it to be a fairly average one— work during the day, then he'd come home to wish his daughter happy birthday. Knowing that things might drag on unexpectedly, he'd had the foresight to delay a proper celebration until he had a day off.

As for the reason why it had turned from average to horrible, it was exactly two things: first, the situation had dragged on for a few extra hours, and more importantly, someone had managed to piss him off.

Of the three heroes they'd assembled, only All Might was sent to the main base of OLD. This made quite a lot of sense, as the police would naturally have the greatest confidence in his skill.

"We've assembled all the information Postman has given to us about his comrades, and determined All Might should be able to defeat all of them no problem," one of the detectives said. "Tokyo Tower is a bit trickier. We're going to close the tower and its surrounding blocks to the public, but it's still in a very crowded area. The goal is to detain the villains that OLD sent out, but it's important to make sure a hostage situation isn't created. There will be other heroes in that area, but we're counting on you two to make sure there are no casualties whatsoever, Endeavor, Star Platinum."

As much sense as it made to Jotaro, Endeavor, it seemed, had not been happy in the least. Feeling slighted, he'd taken to barking at the police while they walked down the streets of Shiba-koen.

The streets were bustling, even during a weekday. More than a few times he'd stepped aside to allow people to speed walk past him. At some point, this caused him to bump shoulders with Endeavor.

They were the same height, but Endeavor glared at him as if he were two meters taller and towered over the world. "Get out of my way," he growled, and it was impossible if he was speaking literally or figuratively.

Jotaro suddenly thought of All Might's words, _maybe you two would get along, _and realized that All Might was the type of person who would only say good things about his coworkers, even if their real personalities were actually dog shit.

He moved to the side and let Endeavor pass. "I wasn't stopping you."

The thing about Endeavor was that he was a remarkably good hero. He was good at what he did, he didn't let his temper ruin his reasoning, and was quite excellent at utilizing his quirk. But that didn't stop him from getting on Jotaro's nerves. It was simply the way he'd go out to antagonize him— he wouldn't have minded the abrasive personality otherwise. Plenty of people he'd met had been worse.

Here was a brief description of the events following three o' clock:

The villains had been rounded up without too much trouble within the next hour. There were three in total, and as the police were rounding them up when the fourth was located, his big meaty hand grasped around someone's throat.

It was exactly what they were hoping to avoid— a hostage situation. What should have been a quick roundup quickly became an hours-long standoff.

"That's the Tokyo Metropolitan Mita High School uniform," a detective murmured, noting the hostage's clothing. "It's just down the street."

The hostage's identity aside, it seemed his quirk was pretty much useless in situation. He didn't seem particularly eager to do anything but cry as the villain yelled at the police force and gathered heroes to release Postman.

It was a finicky situation for Jotaro, particularly— his time stop was invaluable in situations like this, but he was still too far away. He couldn't get closer without alarming the villain. The villain seemed to have a large area-of-effect attack; it wasn't great to risk it.

The standoff was broken at around six in the evening, when All Might returned from his side of things. He hadn't even done anything when the villain saw him and lost it— his hand began squeezing the hostage's neck in a dangerously tight grip. As the his face grew purple, time was up.

The standoff officially ended with the villain escaping but the hostage safe, which was better than the opposite. All Might, who could move the quickest, was sent after him.

This was when things went south— the aftermath.

"Why did you do that!?"

If there was one thing Jotaro's quirk did not help him with, it was physical durability. Minor third-degree burns littered his face, and his white coat was a bit charred. Thankfully, Endeavor's attack had only grazed him.

"The hostage was in the range of fire," he said.

Endeavor looked ready to explode, only to be stopped by an officer saying, "He's right, Endeavor, your fires tend to be less contained the further away the target is, you know that—"

"It wouldn't have _hit _the hostage," was the snarled response. "You think I don't have enough perception to be able to judge my own attacks?"

"It's not a matter of whether or not you thought it would hit him or not," Jotaro said evenly. "My eyesight is better than most— if I hadn't pushed you, the hostage was going to be seriously burned on his chest and torso. He'd most likely need surgery to survive."

Even though he'd said it as non-confrontationally as he could, the implication that Endeavor had made a bad judgement call ruffled his already fluffed up feathers and he yelled, "Because of you, he got away!"

"He won't escape All Might."

Endeavor was truly an impressive hero— but his teamwork skills needed some work. He liked to do all the work, get all the credit, and anything less than that had him lashing out at whoever he deemed the cause of this injustice.

"You aren't nearly as impressive as I heard you were, Star Platinum," he thundered. "The fact that you're even expecting any respect from me is a laugh— you can't even capture a single B-rank villain."

By this point, the impulse to punch him was quite tempting to follow through on. Jotaro didn't really have the best temper himself. He let himself imagine it, the feeling shattering Endeavor's zygomatic bone as his fist connected with his cheek— it would certainly be therapeutic, soothe his injured pride.

But he was tired, a bit dirty and burnt, and Jolyne was waiting for him tonight. If he punched Endeavor, they'd probably make him stay longer and tell him off, who knew. It wasn't worth the aftermath. The look Endeavor gave him would have shattered the heart of anyone who wasn't Jotaro, who couldn't have cared less.

He turned away, ready to go home. The commute was going to take a while.

Then Endeavor had the guts to follow up with, "I suppose that DIO villain wasn't nearly as dangerous as we all thought, if someone as weak as you could finish him off—"

Again, Jotaro had met people with far more irritable attitudes than Endeavor. All he had was a rather short temper and a tendency to lash out when he did so. His ego was almost impressive— Jotaro had a notable amount of pride in himself, as well. But Endeavor's constant antagonism towards him had him lose all his patience.

He turned back around.

His quirk swirled to life, and everything else slowed to the point of absolute stillness. For five aching, still seconds, Jotaro breathed.

One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe.

And as soon as time restarted, he asked him, "Have you ever wondered what it's like to have an ugly face?"

Without waiting for an answer, he punched Endeavor in the nose.

Although there was a bit of superhuman speed put into it, he didn't use any extra strength. He didn't need to, not to feel the sickening crunch of a broken nose and see blood running out as Endeavor stumbled back.

"It's a good look on you," Jotaro said, and it felt as if all the tension and rage building up today had finally been released.

What a satisfying feeling. It was, perhaps, the best part of the day.

* * *

The morning of Jolyne's birthday, her dad had said, "I'll be late coming back from work."

"... 'Kay," had been her easy response.

"Grandma will eat dinner with you. I'll be back before you go to sleep."

"... 'Kay."

Dinner had been nice— Grandma Holy cooked super good food, and when she'd unwrapped her present, it'd been the new Pokemon Gold— she'd shrieked in delight, hugged her grandma, and plugged it into her Gameboy.

By the time the clock struck nine, though, her good mood was gone. Jolyne's bedtime was a laxly enforced 9:30 on weekdays. There was only half an hour left before he was late.

If he was late—

If he was late, then—

Here was a secret: Jolyne hadn't seen her mother since December. Sometimes, when her dad wasn't looking, she'd push a chair to the front door, stack a few books on that and peer through the peephole.

She knew that her mother wouldn't be coming back, ringing the doorbell— but she'd still look, because maybe if she did her mom would be there, waiting to be invited in because she'd forgotten the house keys again. She'd laugh, say, "Jojo, since when was our house in Japan?"

Every time, all she saw was the empty hallway that led to the elevator. And Jolyne wasn't dumb— she knew no one would be there. She wasn't a stupid little baby. Everyone said she was really smart.

But still, her mom was really, really late. Jolyne should have gone with her, cause then at least they'd be late together. Maybe she would have been able to remind her, "We gotta get back before dinner, cause that's when we gotta eat with grandma and grandpa!"

Her dad wasn't back by 9:30. He wasn't back by ten, either. Grandma Holy urged her to sleep, telling her she'd wake her up when he came back, but Jolyne was feeling too sick to sleep. There was something jumping in her stomach, and all of a sudden all the nice stuff Grandma Holy had made for her birthday felt rotten.

"You called him, right?" She asked beseechingly.

"He's not at his office, sweetie," Grandma Holy said gently. "And your father doesn't have a cell phone."

He wasn't back by eleven.

By 11:30, Jolyne began to cry.

Her dad was late. She'd been worried that he'd be late before, when he went to Morioh to find Uncle Josuke. She had insisted on coming because of it, because that way at least she would be able to remind him that he had places to be (here with her). He couldn't always be losing track of time like that.

Her dad was late. Really, really late.

Grandma Holy held her close, telling her comforting things, but she didn't hear them.

It was 11:57 when the sound of fumbling keys could be heard, and the front door swung open after a click of the lock opening. Windswept, a bit dirty, but mostly the same as ever, Jolyne's father took off his coat and hung it on the coat hanger, like he always did, then looked to her room as he realized the lights were still on.

Jolyne ran out to meet him. Her dad seemed a bit dumbstruck by her splotchy face, and she screamed, "You're late!"

"Happy birthday, Jolyne," her dad said, and he reached out to her. Sobbing, she let him pick her up, and she clutched at his neck.

The clock struck twelve.

* * *

.

I got hungry and put in an absolutely unnecessary scene about Japanese hot pot. Thanks JunsKitchen.

Upon reacquainting myself with ffn . net after a few years of forgetting about it, I've re-remembered that most things on here tend to be action-oriented, especially crossovers like these. JJBA and BNHA are prime shounen battle material after all. There's no tagging system on this site, so this is a fair warning to all that this is not particularly action-y or adventure-y. Yeah, Kira'll probably show up at some point, but that's about it. I'm far more interested in writing Jotaro-centric introspection and slow burn romance (which is so slow y'all probably don't realize its technically started).


	5. Oh My God They Were Neighbors

In lieu of the disaster that had been Jolyne's birthday, Jotaro rewarded himself with the acquirement of a fish tank.

Jolyne herself had insisted on a proper sacrifice befitting of the wait she had to endure, and they'd settled on finally painting the walls of her room, as well as some glow-in-the-dark butterfly stickers. She also demanded say in what sort of fish he bought when they got to that step. "They gotta be pretty, not ugly."

"Sure," he said, even though he'd never really found a fish more beautiful than the were all just… fish.

It ended up being a busy shopping day as a result— thankfully Jolyne, who had insisted on tagging along, didn't seem to lose much energy until the very end. By the time they left the department store to restock the food in their kitchen, it was almost closing time.

No matter how much energy a kid like her could have, it was obvious she was about to fall over at any moment. Jotaro took pity on her little legs and picked her up. "I wanna be tall," she said, when crouched down in an invitation for a piggyback ride. "Really tall. Can you put me on your shoulders?"

"You won't fall?"

"Nope."

Upon hoisting her up, the assessment seemed to stay true, though Jotaro felt a bit scared of moving his head too much. Jolyne had slumped over, resting her cheek on the top of his hat while she poked at it— if he looked up, would she fall backwards?

After perusing his kitchen yesterday, his mother had given him a list of the best brands to buy — "More expensive doesn't always mean better, dear," she had said, eyeing the the rice cooker with amusement.

Jotaro, who had honestly just picked the first thing he saw, had no idea what that was meant to imply. Nonetheless, he trusted her judgement, and diligently searched for whatever the hell she had written on here.

He'd been shopping for maybe fifteen minutes when he felt as if someone was staring at him.

Jolyne was still resting her head on his hat, so he couldn't turn his head easily. After numerous failed attempts to find whatever brand of cooking wine his mother had recommended, he dunked a random one into the basket, then turned around to see who exactly was gawking.

The man quickly looked away, likely embarrassed at being caught. Judging by his dumbstruck look before that, it seemed Jotaro had been recognized. A vague sense of annoyance struck him, before he batted it away tiredly. This happened often enough back in Florida. The only difference between then and now was that he didn't usually have Jolyne around.

Perhaps that secret would no longer be a secret, eventually.

"Daddy," Jolyne said suddenly, interrupting his musings.

"What?"

"Why do you always wear a hat?" She asked, poking at it again. "Do you not like people seeing your hair?"

"Something like that," he answered noncommittally.

"Then why don't you just shave your head?"

Jotaro saw the man's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. "Jolyne."

"Take the hat off!" She yanked it and put it on her own head instead, then stuck her fingers into her father's short, curled hair. "It's soft."

He felt her stick her face into his hair, and that was when he'd decided that he'd had enough. "Jolyne," he repeated, and reached up to put her back onto the ground.

"Noooo," Jolyne giggled. "No, I'm not doing anything!"

He set her down anyway, and reached to take his hat back. She laughed some more, dancing away. "I want the hat!"

Well, at least she'd found some energy. Now hatless, Jotaro could only sigh, mutter an incomprehensible, "Give me a break…" and sigh again.

The white cap was a bit too big for Jolyne, and the way it obstructed her vision caused her to stumble into the man down the aisle.

"Sorry mister," she said automatically, but when she looked up, her expression changed to one of extreme shock. "It's you!" She cried, pointing up at him accusingly. "The murderer! How did you find me? My location was compromised!"

Jotaro looked sharply to the man, who seemed politely befuddled by all this, then blinked in realization. "Oh," he spoke in surprise. "Young lady, we've met on the train before, haven't we?"

"Daddy!" Jolyne whirled around, adjusting the cap so that she could look up at him. "I found a villain, you gotta capture him."

Jotaro looked to the man, who said in elaboration, "Your… daughter, she was playing a game? Er, detective-playing or something?"

That.

"I found the villain, too," Jotaro said flatly, then reached out to grab her. "There. Captured."

"Noooo!" She yowled. "Daddy, you got the wrong one!"

When he looked up from Jolyne squirming, the man was watching them both with thinly veiled amusement. Not quite sure what one was supposed to say in moments like this, Jotaro cocked his head and asked, "Do you… want an autograph or something?"

"Wh—" The man sputtered and, to Jotaro's surprise, blushed a bit. "I don't— I'm sorry about the staring, it's rude of me. I was just caught off guard. I didn't know you had a daughter."

"It's fine," he replied shortly. It had bothered him quite a bit when he'd first started out, but it'd been nine years since he'd begun. He'd learned to tolerate it.

He still looked quite embarrassed at himself for committing such a faux pas. It wasn't particularly polite to talk to heroes when they were off duty. Everyone knew that. The man was actually extraordinarily tall and bulky, bigger than Jotaro, but he stood in such a slumped way that made it feel as if he was trying to sink into the backdrop. Probably didn't like attention, then.

"Mr. Yagi," one of the store employees stuck her head down the aisle. "I found some in the back. Here you are."

"Thank you," the man said politely, then turned to apologize again to Jotaro once she was gone. "I'm sorry for disturbing you on your time off, especially after such a hectic week—"

A… hectic week. The way the he said seemed to imply… Jotaro frowned, adjusted Jolyne, who was attempting to wiggle her way out of his grip. "Do you work for a hero? How do you know about this week?"

"I'm one of All Might's secretaries," he said sheepishly. "Toshinori Yagi. I heard about you and Endeavor from my boss."

Apparently, All Might was a gossip, Jotaro thought, as Jolyne interrupted loudly, "You work for All Might?"

"I do."

She made a face. "All Might sucks."

"Not really," Jotaro told her.

"Oh." Jolyne corrected herself. "All Might's alright, I guess. Tell him he's a seven outta ten."

Toshinori had the strangest look on his face, but laughed nonetheless at her rating. "I'll let him know," he assured her.

"Daddy," Jolyne interjected again, obviously bored by this conversation, "Can we get ice cream here?"

"... Sure. It was nice to meet you," Jotaro said to Toshinori, hoping it would be enough to close the conversation, because ice cream didn't sound so bad right now. It was certainly preferable to having to chat with All Might's secretary about Endeavor.

"Ah, yes! Have a nice day."

They quickly moved on. The frozen section had a selection of ice cream by the tub, and Jolyne looked at the foreign flavors in awe. "Red bean," he listed out for her. "Matcha, mango—"

"What's that?" She pointed at some GariGari-kun.

"It's a soda popsicle."

In the end, they walked out all the groceries, and Jolyne back on his shoulders, the oversized hat on her head and a popsicle in her hand. Jotaro had a growing fear the latter would drip onto his hair as it melted, but she looked so pleased with the development of events that he resolved to just wash his hair extra thoroughly tonight.

"Daddy," Jolyne said, "That guy in the store said somethin' about an endeavor. What's that?"

"Endeavor's a hero," he told her.

"Oh." Jolyne thoughtfully licked her popsicle. "Was he the one you said made you late on my birthday?"

"Yeah."

"You should kick his ass," she advised wisely.

* * *

"See?" Koichi practically flung the x-rays at him. "It's changed! I don't have the second joint anymore!"

Catching the manila folder easily, Josuke pulled out the images and peered at the circled bone. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's definitely not there. Your doctor say anything?"

"I used to go to hospital in S City, and Budogaoka Hospital doesn't have my medical records yet." Koichi still looked like he was on the verge of crying. "It's not like I could tell him I used to be definitely quirkless; what if they lock me up or something?"

"Koichi," Yukako said gently, and good lord, was it creepy when her voice went all soft and sweet like that, "Why don't you sit down? You're only going to tire yourself out pacing like that."

Josuke handed the x-rays over to Okuyasu, who'd been looking over his shoulder. "Either way, you definitely have a quirk. Dunno about the whole two-jointed pinky toe thing, but that point ain't disputable."

It was early evening. Gathered at Josuke's dinner table were Okuyasu, Koichi, and Yukako, having a meeting about Koichi's newfound quirk, which was apparently impossible, since he'd gone to the doctor's to check as a kid. A double-jointed toe meant no quirk, end of story.

"Something like this doesn't just _change _when you grow," Koichi said. "You don't suddenly lose a joint, vestigial or not."

"I don't see what's the big problem," Okuyasu said. "You always wanted a quirk, now you got one. Shouldn't it be a good thing?"

"I was happy for a day, but now I'm kinda scared," Koichi muttered, and rapped the table decisively. Katakana immediately spread on the surface, and sound of knocking echoed over and echoed again. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Well, you don't feel bad, and we even went to Tonio's so he could examine you," Josuke pointed out. "I think you're gonna be fine."

Yukako clapped her hands together. "Koichi," she suddenly exclaimed in excitement. "You always said you wanted to be a hero as a kid. Now you've got a quirk, there's nothing stopping you."

He blinked. "Yeah, I guess," he said slowly. "But… I mean, my quirk isn't all that useful, is it? It just makes noises. I don't think I can become a hero with a quirk like that."

"Sure, but you're not just your quirk," Josuke pointed out. "You're really smart, Koichi. You managed to get yourself out of all these crazy situations recently with nothing but your brain. You'd make a great hero!"

"I could say the same for you and Okuyasu. Both you guys can do amazing things."

"Yeah, but I'm not very smart," Okuyasu said, and admitting something like that was as easy as commenting on the weather for him. It was honestly a bit humbling. "Even Otoishi managed to mess with me."

"Okuyasu's plenty smart, but there's no point in comparing yourself to others," Josuke said. "And I don't even want to become a hero. You shouldn't just hold yourself back because you don't think you're good enough."

"I guess," Koichi said hesitantly. "Budogaoka doesn't have a hero course, though, and how could I even transfer in to the high school in S City like this? It isn't U.A. or anything, but it's bound to be difficult…"

While he continued to sigh and complain, Yukako took it upon herself to console him. Josuke looked to Okuyasu and shrugged; he felt bad for Koichi, but at the same time, he couldn't really relate. None of the aspirations or mental setbacks he seemed to be suffering were something he would ever experience himself. His quirk had manifested when he was four, the way it was supposed to.

Speaking of which, Jotaro hadn't attended a hero course in high school either, if he remembered correctly. He'd just gone straight to the hero license exam? Maybe things were different in America.

"Well, Rohan's over the moon, at least," Koichi said. "It's sort of creepy, because I can't tell if it's because we're friends or he just thinks I became a more interesting person to draw about. Inexplicable quirk and all that."

"What's this about interesting?"

They all jerked around as Tomoko Higashikata came walking down the stairs, peering into the kitchen. "Oh, Josuke, you have friends over?"

She was still wearing all black. He didn't know how long she was going to do that, but at least her pep had revived before long, no longer quite as miserable as she had been last week. His mom was the toughest person in the world, after all.

"Yeah," Josuke scratched his head. "Sorry about not telling you, it was sorta on short notice."

"We'll be gone before dinnertime, Ms. Higashikata," Koichi said politely.

"Eh, don't worry about it." She waved her hand dismissively while she pulled open the fridge. "You're always welcome. Josuke, did you eat the goddamn sponge cake?"

"I didn't touch it," he protested. "Honest!"

Tomoko glared at him suspiciously, then visibly brightened as she moved the orange juice out of the way. "There it is! Anyway, don't let me interrupt, keep talking."

Koichi took the x-rays back from Okuyasu as he said, "Anyway, I guess I'm just a medical impossibility now. I'll get over it, eventually." He rapped the table again, just to see the same onomatopoeia effect spread.

"You all talking about quirks and the whole toe thing?" Tomoko asked, pulling her selected pastry out. What with the x-rays being passed around and Koichi's constant use of his quirk, it wasn't hard to infer.

When they nodded, she rolled her eyes. "I'm a believer of science, but I'm telling you, that whole double-joint thing is complete bull. It's got nothing to do with whether someone's got a quirk or not. Dunno how they ever came up with that idea."

"Mom," Josuke complained. "Are you serious? Everyone knows that's how it works."

She sniffed. "I know what they say, but you know, the doctor kept saying you were going to be quirkless, but look how that turned out! Yours developed just fine, didn't it? It's complete crap."

"... What?"

"Exactly what I said," she repeated, annoyed. "The quirk checkup came free with our insurance, so I figured, why the hell not, right? Only for them to tell me my son won't have a quirk, two months before he gets his. Two joint pinky toe, my ass!"

"What!?" Josuke yelled, again. His friends at the table looked as dumbstruck as he felt as he stood up in alarm. "Are you serious?!"

"Yup," and with that, she began to wander into the living room. "Tell me what you all want to eat if you decide to stay for dinner!"

Josuke sat back down on the chair, making it jerk backward, a dull thunk sounding as the legs scraped the ground.

"Koichi, I'm gonna join you on the the team of medical impossibilities," he said. "Let's see if I can get an x-ray done tomorrow, holy _shit." _

—

The doctor had given him a pitying look as he explained carefully that, no, Josuke wouldn't ever develop a quirk.

"It's unfortunate, but more common than you might think," he said. "Around 22% of the population doesn't have one right now. You're bound to find people just like you. Don't feel too down."

Josuke had walked out of the clinic a bit dazed and confused, and after he relayed the news to Okuyasu, they both slumped onto the park bench. As if he needed proof for the obvious, Josuke broke off a piece of the wooden seat, then repaired it immediately.

"I've got a quirk," he said, waiting for confirmation.

"Yup," Okuyasu agreed.

"But I'm not supposed to have one."

"Yup."

"I get how Koichi feels now," he groaned, though this was still slightly less terrifying than a joint disappearing entirely. "This is so weird. It's like, 'Maybe this isn't a quirk at all,' you know?"

"I don't really get the whole toe thing to begin with," Okuyasu said, scratching his head. "Your mom said she didn't believe it, right? Maybe it's all just baloney, cause you obviously have a quirk."

It was true that correlation didn't always mean causation, but.. "There's gotta be _some _sort of evidence if people use it as an indication," Josuke said, trying to wrack his brain in an effort to remember what he'd learned in biology. "The whole toe thing and a quirk, those are traits that've been mapped to be on the same chromosome, or something. That's genetic linkage, you tend to inherit two genes together if they're close to each other on the chromosome."

Wait… did genetic linkage guarantee that they would always be inherited in pairs, or was it just a high possibility? Wasn't there something about… _Wait, _maybe it wasn't genetic linkage at all. Were they the same gene, not two separate ones? At this point Josuke's head was spinning from trying to remember half-learned terms, and Okuyasu looked as if the whole thing had gone over his head.

Okuyasu said, "Anyway, if it's genetic, maybe you should just ask your dad's side of the family."

Oh yeah.

Joseph Joestar had been a hero, hadn't he? Josuke still didn't know much about him, but that much was common knowledge, which meant he had a quirk. His nephew _definitely _had one. But that wasn't enough to really generate any conclusion about his odd maybe-not-a-quirk quirk.

Speaking of which, his quirk, with its super strength and repair, hardly resembled his mom's. Tomoko's quirk was a very benign, albeit useful one; she was always able to locate any and all of her personal belongings she owned for more than a year. (As this did not usually extend to perishables she bought for herself, stealing her food was still free game.)

At the very least, he could call Jotaro to ask about Joseph Joestar's quirk. Maybe that would give him a clue about the whole conundrum.

* * *

Whether it was misfortune or good luck, Jotaro met Toshinori Yagi again at around six in the morning, less than 24 later.

It was dreadfully hot in the summer, but Jotaro, who had an aversion to gyms, would get up early to run to the coast nonetheless. It was a routine he'd developed in college, and had enjoyed it so much that he'd kept the habit. Dawn was a good time for many things.

He'd started going even earlier since they'd returned from Morioh, as Jolyne had a tendency to wake up in early morning. The few times he would come back a bit too late she'd often be in tears, frightened of _something— _he wasn't quite sure what. Either way, it was incentive enough.

Today's return to the apartment had been marked by the encounter of another tenant, but a very distinctive one. Dressed in a loose t-shirt and slacks, a very bulky frame, Jotaro quickly identified All Might's secretary.

They made eye contact, and Toshinori spoke, "It seems we're neighbors, then…?"

"Yeah."

It was a bit odd that this was the first time they saw each other. To be fair, it wasn't like Jotaro loitered around building once he left his apartment, but it seemed as if Toshinori left his apartment at fairly odd times of the day, judging by this encounter— not the regular businessman commute times. What sort of work hours did All Might's secretary have?

This was not really the ideal situation he would want to converse with someone. Beyond the fact that he didn't see the point usually, he was also out of breath, his tank top soaked and his hair slick with sweat. He felt as if someone had dunked a warm, sticky bucket of water on him. He'd much prefer to be in the shower right now as opposed to on the second floor of the apartment complex, chatting up Toshinori Yagi.

Toshinori, thankfully, didn't seem too interested in talking for long, either. In fact, he almost seemed embarrassed again, unable to look in Jotaro's direction. It was a bit strange, but he also couldn't bring himself to particularly care.

"I'm Jotaro Kujo," he said shortly, upon realizing he'd never really introduced himself yesterday. He considered holding out a hand to shake, but considering the mess he was in, it was perhaps best to skip it for now. "I live in 2E. Let's get along."

"I'm in 2A," Toshinori said faintly, his face a faint red as he kept his eyes firmly fixed on Jotaro's face. "And yes, let's."

* * *

.

It went straight from "All Might sees Jotaro without a hat in the supermarket and thinks his daughter is cute" to

Jotaro, exposing ten times more skin than he usually does and very, very wet: why cant this man look me without looking real embarrassed

Toshinori Yagi, in bara big tiddy hell and crying: every time i see him he's wearing less


	6. Quirkless

In hindsight, punching Endeavor was a mistake.

It had been a mistake in foresight as well, but in the actual heat of the moment Jotaro couldn't have given less of a shit. Even upon acknowledging that he shouldn't have done it, he couldn't feel very guilty.

Nonetheless, he stood in front of the Recovery Girl, trying to muster up at least an ounce of recalcitrance in him.

She said, "You were smart enough to not actually injure him much, at least."

"Is he suing me?"

"Why are you asking me?" She sniffed. Her graying hair was tied up in a bun, which bobbed as she turned to face him properly. "Do you think I'm a part of Endeavor's legal team?"

"I could say the same thing," he said. "You're hardly the hero I'd expect to confront me about Endeavor, Recovery Girl."

Recovery Girl stared at him severely. The wrinkles on her face deepened. "You know, it's not necessarily a matter of future compatibility, though that is certainly a concern. If a time comes when you and Endeavor are forced to work together again, a rocky relationship on the job could negatively impact your performance. In an industry like this, that's a matter of life and death."

"It won't affect anything." If Endeavor was going to have hang-ups, well, it was on him.

She threw him another skeptical look. "Well, as I said, that's not what I'm here for. You realize I'm the one heroes go to for medical assistance in these parts, yes?"

"Sure."

"I'm not willing to heal injuries that were caused by incidents like this," she said. "They brought Endeavor to me, what with his broken nose and all, so I'm putting my foot down right now and telling you, I've got better things to do. Do whatever you want, but don't expect me to deal with the aftermath."

Not feeling particularly chastised, Jotaro answered, "I understand."

It was unfortunate for everyone involved that Jotaro had never really been good at playing nice. The government had given him a slap on the wrist— a fine, some dock in pay. He didn't particularly care.

But it wasn't as if Recovery was wrong, he thought as she walked away. There was bound to be nothing but trouble in an industry like this when it came to a nasty temperament. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Jotaro still didn't have the best tolerance towards insults.

He distantly recalled the school nurse at his high school, back in the day— she had always shaken her head at him when he came in after a fight, then lectured him for a bit. Then she would patch him up and send him off in a never ending cycle.

This was no longer high school, and it would be incredibly condescending for Recovery Girl to pretend it to be. It wasn't her job to keep Jotaro safe.

* * *

Shigechi, or Shigekiyo Yangu, was a stingy, greedy little junior high schooler, but a junior high schooler nonetheless. Josuke remembered his time as a second year at Budogaoka Middle all too well, and winced in memory of the one time he'd gotten into his head how great it'd be to shoplift a fancy-looking watch by punching the store window right in front of a clerk.

Truthfully, that'd only been two years ago, but he felt as if he'd mentally progressed a lot since then. This was supposed to be a time of great mental and emotional growth, right? Puberty and all that.

Anyway, Shigechi was on his mind right now for only one reason, really: unsure of what time Jotaro would likely be home, he'd dialed the number given to him after dinner. When someone picked up, he said, "Er, Jotaro? It's me, Josuke. I was wonderin' if—"

"Uncle Josuke!" A voice piped up, and Jolyne told him in a tone of great importance, "Daddy's washing the dishes. Wanna talk to me instead?"

"Hi Jolyne," he said. "How have you been!"

"I go to a new school now," she informed him. "It's not the international one anymore. I even got a uniform and stuff. Why's it so hot to wear?"

"Haha, just be glad you don't have to wear the boys' jacket. Make any friends?"

"Yeah! There's Nejire! She knows how to lick her nose. I can't do that at all!"

"Wow, that's so cool. Anyone else?"

"Mmhmm, Yuyu's hair is really fluffy! She let me touch it, and it's even softer than Daddy's. Yuyu and Nejire are both a year younger than me though, so I don't get to see them a lot. It sucks!"

"Huh? You don't have any friends in your grade? Not even in your class?"

Jolyne said darkly, "It's because on the first day the teacher makes you introduce yourself and talk about your quirk. I don't have one, and when I said that everyone laughed at me. So I'm not gonna make any friends!"

No quirk? Recalling the reason why he'd called to begin with, he said, "It's no good if everyone's mean to you. Did you tell your dad?"

"Nah," she said. "I don't need him. I can beat them up by myself."

The snort of laughter came out unbidden, and Josuke quickly shut up as he realized encouraging a little girl to start punching her classmates probably wasn't great. She'd probably be great at it though.

This was when Shigechi had come to mind. He didn't have any friends in his grade either, did he? Though Jolyne practically an angel compared to him in terms of personality. A few friends from different grades wouldn't hurt, he supposed.

He said, "Well, I think maybe you should tell him anyway. Maybe he can support you?"

"Like a cheerleader?"

He had meant it in a _maybe he can talk to your teacher _sense, but who knew what Jotaro would do. "Sure, why not?"

There was a low murmur in the background, and Jolyne said, "Uh-huh, it's Uncle Josuke."

A bit of a shuffle later, Jotaro's low voice could heard. "Josuke. Did something happen?"

"Not really," he answered, fiddling with the telephone cord. "Just— uh, it's a bit of long story, but I was wondering, could you send me some stuff on the Josetar family quirk pedigree? There's sort of something I want to check out."

It was a roundabout question, but somehow, Jotaro exhaled into the receiver and said, "Remind me, when did you get your quirk?"

"I was four, so… 1987?"

"How convenient," was the noncommittal answer. "If you're asking about quirks, then I'll assume you figured out something about your own. Did you take an x-ray?"

"Uh." His fingers froze for a brief moment. "Well, yeah. You mean, you know about…"

"Yeah," Jotaro said. "It's definitely a Joestar thing. Joint or no joint, you'll be fine. It's nothing to worry about, as long as your quirk doesn't harm you."

"Alright," Josuke said. It really made him feel better when someone like Jotaro could tell him everything was fine. "Ok, cool. I won't worry about it then. Is this, like… normal though? 'Cause my friend Koichi's got some weird stuff going on with his quirk, too."

"What do you mean?"

Upon explaining Koichi's mysterious disappearing articulation, Jotaro was silent for a moment, then said, "I've never heard something like that."

That did _not _sound good. Josuke gulped and said, "Should he be panicking?"

"Again, if it's not hurting him, there's no need to panic." Jotaro suddenly spoke, "Holy has been asking if you'd like to come visit her one Sunday. You can bring your friends, too. I'd like to talk to you and Koichi then, if possible."

Holy? Who was Holy? After wracking his brain for a terrifying few moments, Josuke suddenly recalled Jotaro's mother. "Call me Seiko," she had said, but her name had been Holy, hadn't it? Why had Jotaro called his own mom by her name? Maybe he was thinking too hard about this.

"My mom," was the clarification when Josuke failed to reply in a timely manner. "Your half-sister."

"Yeah, I remember. Sure, I guess, maybe in two weeks?" Some exams were coming up.

"Alright. Here's the address."

* * *

Jotaro hung up not long after, then turned his head to look at Jolyne, who had been attacking various clips to his hair during the conversation. "Josuke's coming to visit soon," he told her.

"Uh-huh," she said, trying to secure a bit of his hair with her butterfly scrunchie. "I heard."

Speaking of overhearing things… "Jolyne," he said. "You were telling Josuke about about school?"

"Uh-huh."

She didn't sound particularly bothered, but nonetheless he asked, "Are your classmates mean to you?"

"Uh-huh," she said, and it ought to have been a bit shocking how blase she sounded, but Jotaro wasn't surprised in the slightest. When he was a kid, being made fun of for being quirkless… well, it was just the way things were. "But it's ok, I'm mean to them back."

That didn't sound particularly ideal. In this particular case, it was his failing as a parent— he hadn't even thought about asking Jolyne about school. He hadn't thought about asking for a lot of things. In the beginning, he'd forgotten that children needed bedtimes, needed to be told to brush their teeth and eat their greens or they wouldn't do it. Jolyne was a very vocal child; most things she needed, she would simply ask. But she hadn't spoken a word about school or vegetables or cavities— until he was abruptly reminded by a random incident like this.

It really didn't sound particularly ideal. He should have asked sooner, but… he wasn't sure what he could do. In a time like this, no matter what school she went to, Jolyne was bound to face some sort of discrimination. He could go in and talk to the teachers, but…

Jotaro remembered when he had been in fourth grade, the first time he'd gotten in trouble for fighting a peer. School had just ended for the day, and there was a boy taunting him, trying to get a rise out of the quirkless boy who always kept to himself. Somehow or another, that was when Jotaro had finally snapped. He had stood up, grabbed his chair and smashed it down onto the desk his classmate was resting his arm on as hard as he could, shattering four of the boy's fingers.

The boy had shrieked, and it'd almost been music to his nine-year-old self. He had informed the boy. "I don't need a quirk to deal with losers like you."

He had gotten into a lot of trouble for that one. In hindsight, it was a miracle he hadn't gotten expelled. His mother had walked into school with a mild, but determined expression on her face as her, the other boy's mother, and their homeroom teacher discussed it in low voices.

"Surely you know," Holy had said, and even now he snorted at what she said next. "Jotaro is such a well-behaved boy. He's so sweet and quiet! He'd never cause such a ruckus without a good reason."

"Your son _attacked _Satou unprovoked—"

"I don't think so," was her mild response. "Jotaro told me that some of his classmates aren't very nice to him. It's only right that I pay for your son's medical expenses, but I hope you can make him apologize to Jotaro as well. It's wrong to be cruel to others just because of their quirk."

That was exactly what happened, but the end result had been exactly the same. Even with his teacher aware of the situation, the harassment continued. By the start of junior high, he could definitively say it was worse than it had ever been.

In short, he didn't know if he could help at all, unless he took her out of the school system entirely.

"Are Nejire and Yuyu nice to you, though?" He asked instead.

"Yeah! They think I'm really cool," she said proudly.

"Has anyone tried to hit you?"

"Nope."

"If anyone tries and there's no teachers around, you hit right here," he told her, and took her hand and guided it to her solar plexus. "Hit as hard as you can."

"Here?"

"Yeah," he said. "Even if someone gets mad, it's ok."

She nodded decisively. "I'm gonna show 'em who's boss.".

He considered her for another moment, then asked while pulling out some of the clips in his hair, "What do you think about karate lessons?"

* * *

Toshinori Yagi became a semi-regular presence during early, early mornings and late, late nights, often shuffling past his doorway long past Jolyne's bedtime. Jotaro's desk was right by the wall that separated his apartment and the hallway, and the quiet steps of people walking past were in the background every once in a while. On days he stayed up late, Toshinori's footsteps were remarkably distinguishable— they were heavy, quick, and often accompanied by the crinkle of a plastic bag.

Jolyne, who'd been sleeping in his room for the past few days since her room still smelled like a fresh coat of green paint, had encouraged a few restless nights. He was suddenly struck with the wild thought that he'd roll over in his sleep and smother her to death— wasn't that something that happened sometimes?

The first night he had been unable to sleep had sent him walking out the door and into the hallway, leaning onto the railing and letting the humid night wind blow into his face. There was no one around, thankfully.

Right by the Kujo estate, there were a small forest of trees that he'd liked to wander into as a kid. He'd grab a book or comic, then wander there until the sun set and dinner was done. He'd walk on top of fallen tree logs and jump over the little creek that made a little trickling sound, then find a good place to sit down and read.

As a kid, he'd loved the quiet. His house had been quiet— even if Holy was rather loud, there were rooms upon rooms of emptiness and silence. As he grew up, he indulged in the silence less and less, though the fondness of being alone and unseen had never quite dissipated.

It wasn't that he disliked having Jolyne around. It was simply that Jotaro was the sort of person who liked having time to himself. Given the chance, he'd choose to spend an evening alone, doing whatever he liked. Being alone had never felt lonely.

It was not quite silent now; the sounds of nightlife could be heard dimly. A car drove by every now and then. The light that illuminated the hallway in the dark kept flickering and making a buzzing sound, but it was close enough. The last time he felt like he'd had a moment to himself, with the world frozen in limbo around him while he was free to be entirely alone, had been on a dreary, rainy winter day in January.

Naturally, of course, the one person who'd be out late at night had to interrupt.

The now-familiar set of footsteps jerked to abrupt stop as he was spotted. Jotaro didn't bother turning to look as he said, "Shut up and keep walking."

Toshinori probably startled, as the plastic bag in his hand rustling as he shifted. He kept his gaze straight ahead as he clarified, realizing it probably sounded unnecessarily harsh, "I'm not in the mood to talk. Keep walking."

He did exactly that, fortunately enough.

It happened again, though, and Jotaro could only accept that if he was going to keep loitering about in the hall in the middle of the night, he'd only see Toshinori more and more often.

"What does All Might have you doing to make you come home so late every night?" He finally asked on the third night, when he heard the heavy footsteps once again.

Toshinori's voice answered back in a moment, "He doesn't really have me doing anything. I just like working, I suppose."

He liked his job, then? Jotaro looked down at the can of beer in his hand, said, "A secretary, huh. Is it any fun?"

"Mr. Kujo," Toshinori said cautiously, "Are you drunk?"

"No," he said. Most definitely not. "And call me Jotaro."

"Alright. Well, my job is very important to me," he said. "Is there a reason why you're asking?"

"Not really," he repeated.

There was a bit of quiet, then Toshinori said politely, "Usually I like to eat my dinner out here. Since you seemed to be trying to figure something out important, I've going inside. But if you don't mind…"

"Go ahead."

Eating dinner at two in the morning seemed a bit odd, but if he'd really been working overtime till now, he was probably famished. There was more crinkling, and a ready-made meal, likely from the konbini across the street, came out of the bag.

"If I might ask, why are you up so late?" Toshinori asked.

He said, "No reason. What part of your job do you like?"

Again, another pause before the careful answer. "I like helping people. Even though all I'm doing is supporting a hero, in a way that's still helpful, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he agreed, though being a secretary hardly seemed to be the clearest path to that particular passion. "You didn't want to become a hero?"

"You're much more loose-lipped when you're tipsy," Toshinori observed mildly. "And I'm quirkless. I don't have the capability of becoming a hero."

When Jotaro failed to respond to that one, he continued, "Heroes like you are very admirable, you know. If you don't mind me saying, I think what you're doing is very amazing."

Recovery Girl suddenly came to mind. Jotaro said, a bit too flatly to sound like an agreement, "Is that so?"

"You disagree?"

"I'm not very good at what I do." He had never had the right disposition to become a public figure. Being a pro hero incredibly irritating; the rules and restrictions he had to follow were constricting, and his inability to be a good role model when it came to rules and attitude was something he was constantly hounded him on. Breaking a few laws here and there didn't matter much to him, as long as the villain was defeated and no one died.

To be quite honest, he'd probably be better off as a vigilante than a government worker.

"Do you really think that?" Toshinori said with audible surprise. "But you're very good! There's a reason why you were number one in America, isn't there?"

In this case, it was simply a matter of differing definitions of what a hero was. Being a pro hero involved more than being the strongest, and Jotaro had neither any interest nor will to uphold any of the other values he was expected to have. As long as he could survive a fight, he was content.

That wasn't the way a pro hero was supposed to operate.

So he made another noncommittal sound. "Enjoy your dinner," he told his neighbor, then wandered back into his apartment to check on Jolyne.

* * *

.

This chapter was brought to you by daily4taro's daily tag on tumblr, specifically the one piece where Jolyne's doing her dad's hair. In general, that blog's art is good fuel for writing.

In other news, I've been having a fight scenario run on in my head for so long of Bakugou vs Quirkless!Jolyne, with Jolyne beating him up with the help of multiple creatively utilized fire extinguishers. This will never happen unfortunately, and I'm very sad about it.


	7. Mother Knows Best

He didn't know why he hadn't expected it, but Jolyne did not like her time at a dojo.

"What we learn here is _purely _for self defense," the instructor told him, his lips pursed and unhappy. "It is to never be used as an offensive technique unless absolutely necessary. When your daughter finally understands that, she'll fit in much better."

The implication that she hadn't been getting along with the rest of the children did not go unnoticed, and while the instruction for defensive, protective techniques was certainly understandable, it was not quite in line with what Jolyne had wanted the experience to be, nor was it quite why Jotaro had sent her there in the first place.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he told her when they walked home. Jolyne's lower lip jutted out and she stared at the ground defiantly as they stepped off the bus.

Thinking about it now, he had always assumed on some level that Jolyne would be the type of person to be rather popular. Beyond the natural assumption that one's child would naturally be everything the parent could not be, Jolyne was extroverted, outgoing, and amusing to converse with— all traits that separated her from her father. Yet, the one thing she had inherited from him, a difficult, stubborn personality, had managed to overpower any other traits that could have set her apart in this instance.

"I dunno," she muttered. "I'll ask Uncle Josuke."

Josuke, who was coming to visit in a two hours, would apparently be staying the night at the Kujo estate. They'd all be having dinner with his mother there, as well.

"What does he know that you and I don't?" He asked her.

"He told me he's a delinquedent. It's his job to be strong. I'll ask him how he got his job."

"Delinquent," he corrected. And, judging by the way he'd modified his uniform and hair… he probably was. "Isn't that my job, too? To… 'be strong?'"

"You're a _hero. _You beat up the villains, Uncle Josuke beats up his classmates," she explained patiently. "I wanna be like him, not you."

Jolyne, of course, had no idea that her father had been quite notorious for the same reason as his uncle a few years ago. Jotaro didn't really feel like explaining it either, so he let the topic slide for now.

When they reached their apartment, there were a few unexpected guests at the doorstep.

"Oh, is that so?" Jotaro's mother said. "See, I'm rather fond of Present Mic myself. His performance at UA's Sports Festival last year was certainly something! He didn't win, but his ability to use his quirk in unique ways is really ingenious."

"Certainly!" Toshinori Yagi agreed, just as happily. "I feel like everyone has high hopes for him in the industry. It's still his first year as a pro, so he'll only go up from here. I thought Midnight in his year was rather impressive as well."

"Oh, Midnight! She's so wonderful," Holy gushed, and Jotaro hadn't realized that she had kept up with the latest heroes so diligently. "It's such a shame she had to edit her costume due to complaints. Hopefully it won't hinder her performance."

"I think it won't for her, but it's a real problem for other women in the industry."

Jolyne, who was watching the two converse almost as bemusedly as him, whispered loudly to him, "What're they talking about? What's a present mike?"

"They're talking about heroes."

"How come they didn't mention you, then? You're the best," she said.

Her loud voice caused the the two to turn in Jolyne and Jotaro's direction, and Jotaro's mother beamed even more brightly. "You're back! Jotaro, you never told me about your wonderful neighbor!"

"Mom," he replied, a bit perplexed. "Weren't we going to meet at your house?"

"Yes, well, I went to go pick up my prescription and do a bit of shopping. Then I figured, why don't we all go pick Josuke and his friends up together? That way they won't get lost." She turned back to his neighbor and spoke, as enthusiastic as ever as she bowed. "It's great that you and Jotaro live near each other. Please take care of him for me."

"Oh no, not at all, Mrs. Seiko," Toshinori replied. "I hope I'm not too much a nuisance as a neighbor."

He was as meekly polite as ever, and it was beginning to be a little grating. "You're fine," Jotaro informed him, then turned to his mother. "Let's go inside, then."

Once the door was shut behind them and Jolyne had rushed off to her room to set down her bag, Jotaro said to her, "I didn't know you kept up with heroes."

"My own son is a hero, why wouldn't I? Besides, it's so wonderful to see all these young men and women trying their best. You can't help but root for them! U.A.'s Sports Festival is so fun to watch; maybe you should take Jolyne to go see it live next year."

She set down her shopping bag while talking, and he noted the smaller paper bag from the pharmacy inside.

Abruptly switching the subject, he gestured vaguely in the direction of her pills. "It's still working?"

"How kind of you to worry about me, you sweet boy, you!" She made motion to kiss his cheek, and he reluctantly bent down for a quick peck. "Don't fret though, your mother is just fine!" She made a V sign with her hand as she beamed.

"Grandma Holly's just fine!" Jolyne echoed down the hall.

"That's good," he replied, because it was.

"Never mind me, Jotaro, why didn't you tell me about Mr. Yagi? He's even in the same business as you," she said. "He seems just like your type!"

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when he finally blinked slowly. "... What?" He asked, unsure if he had heard that right.

"He seems like your type," she repeated patiently.

"He's your type!" Jolyne shouted as she wandered back to the living room, then asked her grandma thoughtfully, "What does that mean?"

Indeed, what did that mean? His expression must have seemed a bit confounded, for his mother laughed, explained in a manner that did not explain anything, "He reminds me of all the other friends you've brought home."

The conversation took a few twists and turns as they all walked out together towards the bus. The traffic during this time of the day was horrid; it'd be no faster if Jotaro drove than if they took the bus. Jolyne grabbed one of each of their hands and shook them rapidly, as if trying to perform a handshake with two people at once, and Jotaro found himself preoccupied with that for a while.

Yet eventually, the subject drifted back into the forefront, and Jotaro asked, "You said 'my other friends.' Like who?" To be honest, he couldn't recall a single person who was even remotely like Toshinori.

"Hmm, well, you've really only brought home three people. But really, he's like all of them!"

Trying to understand what counted as Jotaro "bringing someone home," he tugged on his hat and pulled Jolyne away from the window, where she was attempting to stick her tongue to the plane of glass.

"There was Jean Pierre," Holy recounted, "That lovely young man from before Egypt, Mr. Noriaki. And then Jolyne's mother!"

"Who's John Pierre? His name's stupid."

Polnareff, Kakyoin, and Jolyne's mother. Those were the three friends he'd "brought home?" For Kakyoin, well… it hadn't exactly been a social visit to the Kujo household, per say. For Polnareff, he'd come to visit Jotaro during his high school graduation, and he and Holy had met then. For his ex-wife, that one was obvious.

"You always make friends with very kind people," Holy said.

"If they're Daddy's friends, then why don't I know them?" Jolyne demanded. "You didn't bring them home to meet _me!" _

"You weren't born yet."

"Then they're _old _," she said, as if any and all friends ought to be seven or younger.

"You should invite him over sometime," Holy said, and her eyes crinkled up as they stepped off the bus and began to walk towards the bustling train station. "I'm sure he'll find such a sweet boy like you wonderful company."

* * *

Josuke and his two friends were located not too long after, and with the help of Jolyne hollering at the top of her lungs, they were quickly hustling out of the station and back to the Kujo Estate.

By the time they had arrived at their destination, Jotaro had decided on one opinion: Koichi Hirose was a strange boy.

It didn't appear to be the case. In most respects, he was quite normal. Perhaps that was what made him odd in the first place— the fact that an ordinary high school boy like him would have been caught in such a bizarre situation was really quite that: bizarre. Someone like Josuke, whose entire bloodline had been caught up in something beyond all them, or someone like Okuyasu Nijimura, whose father had apparently been doing things he shouldn't have— those made sense. Blood ran thick.

Koichi Hirose, however, was a quirkless fifteen year old with no notable family history and no outstanding talents. It was easy to say that Jotaro had asked Josuke to bring him along because of that fact, this bizarreness.

It… wasn't actually why, though.

While his mother ushered them off into a tea room and had Jotaro "entertain the guests while Jolyne and I make dinner," Koichi carefully recounted the events that had led up to his discovery with the ease of someone who had obviously explained the whole thing before to several people. Still, there wasn't much to go off of. Most of it he had already heard from Josuke, and Koichi's own perspective was not too different.

Seeing as he'd already spent two weeks thinking on this, the words came easily to him.

"I'm not a doctor or biologist," Jotaro said, "So take this with a grain of salt. But it's possible that your quirk might just be an evolutionary mutation."

"An evolutionary mutation… ?"

"Quirks in and of themselves are a mutation." There were enough children whose quirks didn't match up with their parents' as a result of genetic mutation. Thus, it wouldn't be particularly surprising if the nature of quirks would change in the future as well. "Think about quirks in animals. Each species developed quirks separately, so the biology behind them is very different in each case. For many animals, that indicator joint isn't vestigial, or never existed to begin with. But each species' quirk is considered a quirk nonetheless."

"But I'm a human," Koichi squeaked.

"I'm not saying you aren't," he replied. "Just don't worry too much about it. If you can use your quirk without a problem and no other health issues arise, just let it go."

"Yeah," Josuke piped up. "That's what I've been saying this whole time, Koichi!" Nonetheless, he looked considerably more relieved for his friend. "But wow, you sure know a lot about this stuff, Jotaro. Did you look into it recently or something?"

"No, not really."

"Then… ?"

"No reason," he said. The words _I took a course on quirk manifestations in animals in uni and never forgot a lot of it _did not slip through. Nor did _it was because I was on track to earn some a zoology degree, _and most certainly not _I asked Koichi to come to Musutafu because I was just extremely interested, _and it was most certainly not true anyway.

"Um," Koichi spoke meekly. "I… Josuke said you wouldn't mind if I took the chance to ask you some things about heroics?"

"Sure."

"I… I always wanted to become a hero," he said earnestly, in a surprisingly determined way that Jotaro couldn't help but blink at. Coming from such an unassuming kid, it had been a bit out of left field. "I was the sort of kid who'd run to the TV as soon as I got home, and turned on the radio just hear the hosts about the newest hero news, you know? I always knew it wasn't really a possibility since I was quirkless, but now that things have turned out the way they have, I've seriously been thinking about it.

"You're the only hero I've ever gotten a chance to meet up close, and you were once in a similar position as I am right now. So I was wondering… is there anything you'd advise for… for someone like me?"

His voice trailed off meekly by the end, looking rather disheartened by whatever he saw on Jotaro's face, which Jotaro himself wasn't quite sure looked like. He said mildly, "I'm not sure how much advice I could give you just based off that. I was in… a unique set of circumstances at the time."

"Koichi's a genius," Josuke interrupted, and his friend Okuyasu nodded in agreement. "He's so smart! Even though he didn't have anything special, he's managed to deal with so many situations that I would've totally needed my quirk! I'm telling you, Mr. Jotaro, you won't find a more reliable guy than Koichi! He can totally make it pro!"

"I wouldn't ask anyone but Koichi for help on anything that involved being smart," Okuyaus said firmly, and at the betrayed look Josuke gave him added, "Sorry bro, just being truthful."

"You don't need to try to sell him to me," Jotaro said, somewhere between annoyed and impressed by the exuberance of both of them. "I'm not a recruiter."

"Yukako's gonna have my ass if I don't sell him properly," Josuke asserted, and pushed Koichi, who looked spectacularly embarrassed by all of this, forward. "Look at him! Look at how reliable he looks! _And _he's got field experience! How many students on the hero track have that?! Please, Mr. Jotaro, anything that can help him out, please spill the beans!"

Jotaro, growing more and more bemused by the second, said to the extremely nervous and unreliable-looking Koichi, "Summer break is in late July, isn't it?"

Upon seeing multiple nods he continued, "Koichi. If you're interested, come work for me as an intern then."

Koichi immediately clapped a hand over his mouth as he muffled what sounded like an unholy shriek. When his mouth was removed, he was blabbering, "For— for— oh my god, Mr. Jotaro, really!? An _intern!? _"

"I don't know much about you or your ability to utilize your quirk," he said. "The easiest way at this point would be to gain some experience. Experience that you won't get in trouble talking about," he clarified when Josuke opened his mouth in protest, who quickly snapped it shut right after. "Even a little would be fine. If I think you've got potential, I don't mind recommending you to a school, either. Even for places like U.A., transferring in through recommendation isn't nearly as hard."

"Oh my god," Koichi repeated, as if he hadn't heard a single word Jotaro had just said. "Star Platinum's asking me to _intern _for him."

Jotaro, who was privately still fascinated by the oddities of the boy's quirk, said easily, "It's no skin off my back either way. Just think about it. Talk to your parents."

"I— of course I'll think about it," Koichi stammered out. He stood up habitually, frenetically fidgety as he bowed deeply. "Th-thank you so much for the opportunity!"

Satisfied with that, and not particularly inclined to conversing with three teenage boys for anything beyond topics that interested himself, Jotaro excused himself with the simple explanation of helping his mother with the meal. While leaving, he saw Koichi approach Josuke and grab him in a bear hug out of the corner of his eye.

"Thank you for being Star Platinum's illegitimate uncle," Koichi could be heard saying earnestly, "I'm so glad you're my friend."

"Uh, thanks," Josuke said awkwardly, and Jotaro closed the door.

* * *

After dinner when they were all sitting about doing nothing important, Jolyne, who had gotten incredibly tired about half past nine, threw a small tantrum as Jotaro lifted her up and told her evenly, "It's time to sleep."

"Sleepy time's for dumbasses!" Jolyne yelled, and Okuyasu, who had been chatting with Holy about— cleaning supplies? — quickly jerked to look over in shock.

"Whoah," Josuke said. "Uh, that's some strong language, Jolyne. Maybe—"

Jotaro said to her, "Only dumbasses don't sleep when they're tired."

Josuke politely shut up.

"Uh," Okuyasu said. "Mrs. Seiko? Is this… alright?"

She blinked, said, "Yes? I don't see why not! Jolyne needs her sleep."

"I don't!" Jolyne snapped as she was manhandled away by her father. "Lemme go! I didn't ask Mr. Okuyasu about his— his pfbbbth!" She had interrupted herself by biting Jotaro's hand, who looked at her with unsurprised bleakness of someone who was used to this.

"Are you an animal?" He asked, and hauled his goblin child away.

Once they were both gone, Josuke leaned over to Koichi and said, "My mom would tan my hide if I acted like that as a kid! I wouldn't see the light of day for a month."

"Same," Koichi responded, blinking. "That's…"

"Kinda cool," all three of them finished, not quite in sync.

Holy Kujo looked at them kindly for a moment, then said, "Wait, before I forget— Josuke, let's take a picture, alright? She looked around, "Oh, where did I put that Polaroid?"

A bit rummaging around, and it was found in the room adjacent to the one they were currently in. Holy said fondly, "Jotaro keeps telling me this house is too big, and things keep getting lost because of it. He's right, but it's such a lovely place, isn't it? The Kujo family has owned it for generations."

"Mrs. Seiko, where's your husband?" Okuyasu asked as Holy ushered Josuke into the frame. He held it up the camera amiably. "That's Josuke's brother-in-law, right?"

She laughed, and Josuke looked somewhere between embarrassed and uncomfortable. "He's on tour," she said. "My husband's a musician, see. He's getting on in the years, you know, and he's been thinking of retiring soon. But he still loves going on tours while he's still at it, so who am I to stop him?"

The flash went off, and camera was put back down. "I'm so thankful you all came today, Josuke," Holy said. "You and your friends are always welcome here, alright?" She patted him on the shoulder, the wrinkles and smile lines on her face growing more pronounced.

Josuke, as most 16 year-old boys around kindly, doting ladies they were unfamiliar with were wont to do, could only nod uncomfortably and respond in turn with the manners that had been drilled into him by his mother. There really was no correct way to talk to a sibling whose life and age were so split from his, and that she treated him like he was a favored nephew made it clear that she understood this difficulty.

"It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Holy," he said truthfully.

She beamed again, then blinked and clapped her hands. "Oh!" She said. "I forgot. Excuse me for a sec, I've got to— oh dear, where did I put it? I could've sworn— oh, there it is!" She held up a prescription bottle triumphantly. "Maybe Jotaro has a point after all!"

"Huh? What's that, Mrs. Seiko?"

"Nothing too much, Koichi."

Josuke, who had a closer look at the bottle, could only frown.

Quirk suppressants?

* * *

"Daddy," Jolyne yawned, poking at the unfamiliar blanket covering her, "I didn't ask Josuke and his friends how to… how to… umm, what did you call it? Uh… 'assert my dominance' yet."

"Go to sleep," he said. "They're all staying for the night here— you can… assert your dominance tomorrow."

"Ok," she said, in a way that meant she wasn't quite done yet. "Daddy, how come your friends don't visit you?"

Sudden subject change aside, it was a bit surprising that the bit of conversation from earlier had stuck with her.

"Because I don't ask them to," he answered honestly.

"Why not? Grandma Holy says you have least two." She continued slowly, "Two friends is good. I've got two friends too. How about… uh, John, why can't he come?"

Fondness flickered. "He's a hero in Europe. He's busy."

"Then the other guy," she pressed seriously, and his heart pulsed slowly. "What about him? Kakyoin?"

Well indeed, what _about _him? There were many things that could be said in response to this. _He's also far away, _or _I won't see him for a long time, _or some other kinder way to say it. No matter what he said, it would certainly not be what she was expecting.

"He's not here anymore, like your mom," he told her, because there was really no other way to explain it.

Her face crumpled.

Perhaps he shouldn't have said that. Yet he felt as if saying anything otherwise would only lead to more and more questions, to which it'd all lead to the same end result.

"Sorry," he said anyway, unsure as to whether she'd even understand that apology. "Forget it, Jolyne."

There was a long moment where he thought she might cry, but when she looked up to him she cried out, "Then you don't have two friends, you only have one! That's _half _as many I have!" She flung off her blanket and threw it at him, then pointed accusingly. "You need friends!"

Jotaro threw the blanket back at her. "Do you think you need more friends?"

"I'm ok!"

"If Nejire moved away," he asked, "And I told you just one friend wasn't enough, that you should get more friends. Would you agree with that?"

Absolutely not, spoke the expression on Jolyne's face, but she pressed, "But… aren't you lonely?"

Little seven year old Jolyne asked this, and Jotaro tilted his head. Was this question simply common sense, in which a lack of friends would naturally mean solitude, which would then lead to loneliness, or out of empathy, something she herself had felt? Did she feel alone sometimes, with his busy work schedule and time away from school?

She didn't tell him these things. He thought on bringing it up and asking her, but he set the thought down, put it away for another time.

He said instead, poking at her forehead, "Why would I be lonely?"

Jolyne's mouth shot open in realization, and her eyes bulged out. There was a moment of shocked silence.

She said resolutely after a moment, failing to hide big, pleased grin on her face. "You're ok, then."

Jotaro confirmed, because he really was, "I am."

"Cause things aren't too bad right now."

"Yeah."

"Mr. Yagi's a big idiot anyway," she said.

"He's really not."

"You don't need to be friends with him."

"Sure." Not that he particularly cared either way, but it was good to be clear. "The same way you don't need more friends, either."

"Cause you've got _me _."

He rolled his eyes. She rolled her eyes at him and snickered. "Go to sleep," he repeated again, and poked her again.

* * *

.

Super tired right now and did not read a single word I just wrote; will proofread in the morning.

And ngl, I've been slowly dying in school right now so uh. Yeah, that's why writing hasn't really happened recently.


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